


Origins Of A New Beginning

by OrchidLurver



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, Multi, Romance, Sexual Content, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-05-14 05:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 125,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5731606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrchidLurver/pseuds/OrchidLurver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the Blight upon them, Duncan begins the task of gathering new recruits to fill the Grey Wardens ranks. When their leader perishes during the battle at Ostagar, the new Wardens are left with the burdens of gathering an army and stopping a political war. With just a hand full of new Grey Wardens, will it be enough for them to stop the Blight, end a civil war and survive? How many of them will be left standing, if any manage to escape death's grasp. What do they chance loosing along the way? Will their sacrifices and hardships along the way be enough?</p><p>Multy Origins fic, that is Amell/Cullen centered, but it will have other pairings. Also, this is my first time posting in AO3. Please let me know if you enjoyed this!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One : Origins, The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> A/N : This story will not follow the games continuity entirely. Although, there will be some dialogue from the game. I hope you enjoy. Please Read and Review. 
> 
> Disclaimer : Bioware and EA own everything Dragon Age related. Only the OCs in here are mine.

_"We bear a sacred burden. For an age, we have protected the lands of men. But now, a blight is upon us and we dare not falter. Regardless of race, noble or commoner. The best must take up our banner to save us all from annihilation. We are the Grey Wardens. Join us." - Duncan Warden Commander of the Fereldan Grey Wardens._

**Chapter One : Origins, The Beginning**

Time always seems to creep by when the lights are dim. As Keira Amell studies her book on practical healing spells, a candle flame flickers, illuminating her tiny space. The shadows of both the mage and the book dance across the cold brick wall. "I'm never going to understand all the complicated healing magics. Give me simple and quick. All this imagining the internal organs and blah blah blah. Maker, this is so not my line of interest." Leaning her chin against her palm, she licks her index finger of the opposite hand and turns the page to the ancient book, uninterested in the knowledge it has for her. "And look here, another chapter on our innards. Wonderful." She huffs. "Thank Andraste that I don't have to worry about my Harrowing anymore."

Just as she's about to continue her readings, a book is slammed down on the table just beside her elbow, causing her to jolt. "For crying out loud Jowan! Is it really that hard to warn me before you do something like that?" Her brow knits with annoyance as she balls up the material covering her heart with her fist. "One of these days, I swear, you're going to give me a heart attack!"

Grinning with satisfaction, the dark haired apprentice takes a seat just beside his long time friend. "Oh come on Keira. It was just a bit of fun. I can't help that you're so easy to sneak up on. All the time."

Still not impressed with him, Keira takes her very big, very heavy book and plops him firmly over the head with it. "What on earth was that for?" Jowan rubs at the now growing bump on the back of his cranium.

"Hey, it's not my fault that you're just so easy to smack around." She quirks. "Sides, I need someone to practice healing magics on." Keira stands and heads over to the book shelves and gently pushes the ancient book back into it's place.

"Right, I'm not letting you practice on me. I'm not your little experiment you know." Jowan continues massaging the back of his head while flipping through his own readings. "Plus I don't think that Templar standing guard in the hallway would like sensing any magic being used. Specially after hours."

Keira's eyes drift to the doorway then back to Jowan. Smirking, she waltz back over to the large study table and places her hands firmly on its surface. "Who said anything about me healing you anytime soon?" She waits for a witty come back, a joke, a snicker, something. All she can hear is silence. _Odd._ Her brown eyes glimpse over the item in Jowan's hands, it's a book she's never seen before. It's fairly small, almost the size of a journal. Also, it seems to be bound in a strange cover. She begins to open her mouth to ask him about the item when she hears the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Amell." Thalia Surana whispers, always the respectful one in the library. Keira had long ago decided that if anyone had asked her to describe her elven friend, that she would compare her to a dove. Soft and sweet with a voice that would spirit away any who payed too much attention to her words. Her hair and skin, as white and perfect as the first snow fall in winter. The only thing that stood out in color on this young elf was her bright blue eyes and ruby red lips. "Amell, I need to speak with you." Again she whispers signaling her friend to follow her.

"Alright. Thalia needs me..." Allowing herself one last glance over her shoulder, Amell tries to catch a glimpse of the inscriptions on the top of the page that seems to have Jowan so enthralled. "Right. I'll see you in the morning Jowan." She leaves the library without even hearing so much as a 'bye' from her friend. Shrugging her shoulders, she decides to brush off his attitude as nothing more then him sulking for when she had smacked him.

Grabbing her friend by the wrist, Thalia forcefully drags the older mage behind her to the apprentice dormitories. Checking to make sure no one is in the room, the elf sits on her bed and tugs at her friends arm. "Sit."

"What's going on?" Keira knows that something must be amiss. Surana never comes off so bossy unless something is bothering her. She watches as the younger girl plays with the ends of her long white braided hair. "Thalia?"

"My Harrowing. It's tonight." The elven girl places her hands on her knees and begins drumming her fingers, anxious. "Exciting, right?" A smile is forced to her lips, she doesn't want to seem frightened, even though she knows for certain that her friend can see through her ruse.

Taken aback, Keira begins to chew at the inside of her bottom lip, a sign of being nervous or confused that she's had since childhood. "When did you find out?"

Thalia puffs out a deep breath and begins undoing her braid. "Only just moments ago."

"You'll do just fine. And you know it. Well, I know you will." Keira tries to offer the most reassuring smile she can possible conjure.

"Right." The elf snickers. "Says the woman who's already passed her Harrowing." Thalia shakes her head, her long hair dangling in front of her face, obstructing her sincere gaze. "My apologies. I don't mean to be rude. Just nervous. I guess."

Amell nods. "Don't worry, I understand." A cool shiver runs through her veins, causing her to rub her arms, a cruel reminder of what her friend is about to face, alone. "Listen, you should rest. They'll come to escort you when it's time. Until then, you should relax, maybe even try to sleep."

Letting her head fall back and rest against her bed post, Thalia sighs. "You're right. As usual." Her eyes roam and then land on her friend. "It's just, you know...what if I don't pass?"

"You will." Amell says firmly. "I have no doubt about that what-so-ever."

Snickering, Surana rocks her head from side to side against the bed post. "You really believe that don't you?"

"Of course. You're the smartest person I know. And that's a lot coming from the second smartest person I know." Smoothing out the lines in her dress, Keira stands. "Come see me when you're done." She kisses the top of her best friends head.

"I will."

* * *

"She did it you know." Jowan is softly rocking Keira's shoulder, trying to wake her from her deep sleep. He can't help but feel a bit jealous of these two women, both younger then he, both had arrived at the tower after himself. Deep down inside he knows why, there can only be two reasons, either the higher ups have decided to make him tranquil, or have decided to put him down like a common beast. "Keira...wake up already."

Rubbing at her eyes with both her tiny fists, Keira slowly sits up. "Jowan?"

"Yes. Finally. Makers breath Keira, how do you manage to sleep to deeply?" He takes a seat at the end of her bed and cautiously keeps an eye on the door, knowing he's not suppose to be up and about after hours.

"I think it's the luxury of having my own room. The quiet does good for one who actually likes to sleep you know." She states flatly. "Now what were you going on about?"

"Thalia. She did it!" Grasping his friend by the shoulders, he pulls her to him for a tight embrace. "I'm so proud of her." He feels Amell begin to pull away.

"Really? That's wonderful news!" Clapping her hands together, she suddenly realizes that this moment is a bitter sweet for Jowan. Judging by his expression, she can clearly see his sense of lost and loneliness. "Aww. Jowan." She hugs him again. "I'm sure you'll have a room near mine or Thalia's in no time."

"Right." Patting her on the back, he pushes away and begins studying the floor. "I don't think so."

"What do you mean?" She looks at him confused, then suddenly finds her eyes following his glare, wondering what it is he is looking at. "You don't think that Irving is holding you back on purpose, do you?"

Breathing heavily through his nose, he looks again towards the door. "Why else would two women, who are younger then me, have been put through their Harrowing first then? Why else would I, someone who's been here longer then most, have yet to hear anything about my test?"

"Jowan...I...maybe you're reading into this too much." Keira can sense his anxiety. However, she knows him not to be the brightest or the fastest learner, so she's only always assumed that maybe his learning abilities is what has set him apart from the rest. She always assumed that he would catch up, eventually. But right now, looking at her friend in his moment of distress, she begins to think that maybe, something else is just...not right.

"Maybe." He pulls a few long stray hairs from his robe. "Anyways, I just thought you should know that she..."

"Apprentice." A calm voice exclaims from the corridor. "What are you doing in a mage's quarters? After hours might I add."

And just like that, he throws on his charming smile, waves to Keira and heads to the door. "Ahh...Cullen, is it? Sorry. I just had to tell my good friend here about our dear Thalia's success. I just couldn't hold news like that to myself until morning."

"Yes. Well...I-I...you better not do this again. C-consider this a warning." Keira can hear Cullen stammer.

"Right mister Templar. Good night." The only sound now is that of the fading footsteps of the apprentice mage slowly returning to his dorm.

"Miss Amell?" Cullen's voice is just beyond her door.

"Come in." With the new luxury of a door, along with a big bed, comes the bonus of having people ask if they can be granted entrance. Lifting a brow, Keira decides that this is something she could get use to, quickly.

"S-sorry to bother you. I hope he didn't wake you." The Templar Knights armor clinks as he makes his way into her room.

"He did, but that's alright. I wanted to know when she was finished." Stifling a yawn with her right fist, she begins stretching her back in almost a cat like manner. Seeing her night shift suddenly become more constricted as she moves like this, Cullen drops his gaze to his boots. "What's wrong Cullen?"

"Oh. Uh...uh n-nothing. It's j-just...well, you're in your room at night...and I should let you rest. It's late." His fingers flex and then relax and then form a fist.

Always a good judge of character, Keira knows that something is bothering him. "You were there, weren't you? At Surana's Harrowing."

He nods. "Yes. I was. Just like yours." His eyes lock with hers. "Hers didn't go as quick as yours, but s-she still did very well." Cullen's lips form a stern line and his jaw sets in with determination. "I told you once, that you could talk to me anytime. The offer still stands." Straightening his back and adjusting his stance, he continues looking at her with that same gaze. "If there's something wrong..."

Keira blinks and quickly tries to correct him. "No, no. Nothing like that...it's just..." She tries to organize her thoughts. "You know what. When I know more, for sure I'll come and talk to you. Alright?"

Mulling over this idea for the moment, he nods his agreement. "Alright." Rubbing at his brown, he allows his shoulders to relax. "B-but you have to tell your friend that he can't just wonder around now that he's got two friends that are full appointed mages." _Damn, why on earth could he never be stern with her? He was with everyone else._

"Yes Ser." Pulling her covers up to her chin, she settles back into her bed. "Cullen, could you leave the door open a crack please?" Growing up in dorms all your life had some disadvantages, like getting use to people studying by candle light in the dark. Now that she had her own room, she suddenly found it confining and maybe, just maybe, a bit scary.

"I-I'm not suppose to..." He stops mid sentence, seeing her brown eyes peer at him from the edge of her blanket, how could he deny her that one comfort. "Fine, but it's only for while I'm on shift. M-my post is right here, so I can watch your door." He sighs, letting his shoulders drop even further, from defeat. _Damn mage._

"Thanks. I swear I won't tell anyone." Turning under her covers, she places herself so that her back is to the wall. The Templar leaves her room and arranges the door so that just a small beam of light is entering her room.

Standing on the opposite side of the hall, Cullen can see through the crack he'd left open. The small beam of light cascades down across the floor, up onto apart of the wood frame bed and then just across the tired mage's face. He can't help but let his eyes lock with that of Amell's, the little frightened mage, all curled up under her bedding. Her fists have the covers balled up at her mouth, and her eyes peer out at him. Cullen continues to hold his gaze and does so late into the night until she finally falls asleep.

* * *

"He wants us to do what?" Amell paces in her room. Thalia remains seated on the bed, her hands folded in her lap and her head hanging low. "I mean, how could he even ask this of us?"

The muscles in her jaw ache, clenching in anger does tend to do that. Her hands, now balled up into fists, shake at her side, either from shear shock or anger, she can't decide. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she rubs her tiny hands over her face and then rubs her brow. "And a with a Lay Sister?" Keira looks to her elven friend at that moment. For years, Thalia has had growing affections for Jowan, and has only ever shared this precious information with Amell. "He truly can't see what's right in front of him. I'm sorry."

Shrugging her shoulders and playing with a fraying end on her sleeve, Surana blows a stray strand of hair from her view. "There's nothing to be sorry for. He has feelings for another, nothing could prevent that."

"I understand..." Keira sits on the bed, next to her friend. "But a Lay Sister? Come on...The First Enchanter must know of this. It has to be the reason he hasn't gone through his Harrowing yet."

"Do you think we should speak with Irving?" Thalia looks to the older mage for answers.

"I...I think it's the only option. We can't possibly help him escape and hope for the best. Our phylacteries have been sent to Denerim. What does he think will happen to us? If we were to leave with him, the Templars would track us down and we could be sent to Aeonar or made Tranquil... We would be punished, severely." Amell grips at the bedding, anxious. "If we don't help him, any of these things could happen to him..."

"What if we try to convince him to just..."Surana begins.

"To what? Break off his relationship with the Sister?" Keira snorts. "Right...you know how stubborn he can get. I don't see him backing down from this." The mage places her face in her palms, trying to think of something clever. Anything.

Thalia stands, crosses her arms and stares firmly at her friend. "Well I can't just do nothing. I can't just stand by."

"I know." Sighing, Keira begins to explain the only thing she can think of. "I think I should talk with Irving."

* * *

"We did it! I can't believe it!" Jowan embraces his two friends in a tight hug. "Thank-you." He lets out a heavy sigh. Smiling warmly, Jowan takes Lily's hand into his own. Both prepared to take on the final task of escaping the tower. "We couldn't of..." Hearing the clamor of armor and foot steps, Jowan glimpses over his shoulder to see Greagoir, Irving and a handful of Templar Knights.

"So what you've said is true, Irving." The Knight Commander studies the group. His eyes drift from the two female mages, to Jowan and Lily.

"Greagoir..." Lily begins to back away. Jowan side steps to put himself between his lover and the Templar Commander.

Greagoir blinks slowly, while shaking his head in disappointment. "An Initiate conspiring with a blood mage. I'm disappointed in you." Staring at the Lay Sisters face, he notices something. "She seems shocked, but fully in control of her own mind. Not a thrall of the blood mage then. You were right Irving." Breathing deeply, the Commander shifts the weight of his body. "The initiate has betrayed us, the Chantry will not let this go unpunished." Then his icy stare returns to the two female mages. "And these two, newly appointed mages, and already flouting the rules of the Circle."

Jowan musters up what courage he has and takes a step forward. "None of this is any of their faults. This was all my idea."

"These two women are here under my orders, Greagoir. I take full responsibility for their actions." Irving, tries to explain to his long time friend and guard.

Confused, Jowan backs away from his two former friends. "Wait...you...you lead us into a trap?" His eyes dance between the two mages before him. "Why?"

Keira is the one to speak up, her anger now boiling over. "What did you expect? The chantry has our phylacteries. Did you honestly expect that me and Thalia could ever live a normal life out there? You didn't even think of asking us if we wanted to leave our home! This is all we've ever known Jowan!"

"Don't you dare speak to me!" Jowan hisses out while pointing an angry finger at her.

"Enough!" Greagoir commands. "As Knight Commander of the templars here assembled, I sentence this blood mage to death."

Thalia and Lily both gasp. Keira covers her mouth in shock. She knew the penalties for trying to escape were harsh, but death. "Blood mage?" Keira whispers, now at a lost.

Ignoring the shock of the tiny group, Greagoir signals for his troops to retrieve the Sister. "And this initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar."  
The templars move around their Commanding officer and begin to make their way for Lily.

The Lay Sister can feel all the blood leave her face, her knees begin to feel weak and her vision begins to grow fuzzy. "The...the mage's prison. No...please, not there." Bringing a hand to her temple, she starts to feel faint.

Glowering at the Knights before him from under his brow, Jowan reaches in his side pocket and pulls out a small dagger. "NO! I won't let you touch her!" Slamming the blade down into his palm, Jowan begins resiting an incantation. Tossing the blade aside he begins assaulting all those in his path. The templars are tossed like rag dolls to the side. Irving and Greagoir are knocked to the ground, unconscious.

Breathing deeply, Jowan straightens his posture and makes his way to Lily. Panting, he holds out his hand to her and waits for her to accept it. To his surprise, she recoils from him. "By the Maker...blood magic! H-how could you? You said you never..." She stares at him, a thing now foreign.

Now beyond frustration, Jowan paces. _Could this really be happening? Now?_ "Alright. I admit I,...I dabbled! I thought it would make me a better mage!"

Lily continues to back away slowly. "Blood magic is evil, Jowan. It corrupts people...changes them..."

Agitated knowing they are running out of time, he quickly walks over to her and grabs hold of her hand. The Lay Sister roughly pulls away. "I'm going to give it all up. All magic. I just want to be with you, Lily. Now please, come with me..." He pleads.

Tears leave tracks down her cheeks as they run from her eyes. Realization setting in, she now knows that she has tossed her life carelessly aside, for a blood mage. "I trusted you. I was ready to sacrifice everything for you." She turns from him, hugging her own arms, hoping to find some kind of comfort. "I...I don't know who you are, blood mage. Stay way from me."

Devastated and lost, Jowan allows himself one last look at his former friends and lover. Quickly, he takes the moment of opportunity to flee, turning swiftly on his heal and heading for the main doors. The echo of the rain falling outside is the last thing heard as the massive doors open and the apprentice runs from the tower.

* * *

As soon as the blood mage is gone, Keira begins checking the vitals on all the men. She finally makes her way to Irving, who's beginning to sit up. Holding him by the elbow, Amell helps the elderly man come to a full stand. "Are you alright? Where's Greagoir?"

The Knight Commander pushes himself up off the floor without ease. "I knew it...blood magic. But to overcome so many...I never thought him capable of such power." He allows himself to glances around the room quickly, to make sure all of his Knights are alive.

The First Enchanter pats the tiny hand on his arm, reassuring the young mage that he's alright. "None of us expected this. Are you alright, Greagoir?"

The Commander's brow lowers in frustration. "As good as can be expected given the circumstances!" He places his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, unable to believe the current situation. "If you would have let me act sooner, this wouldn't have happened! Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down!" No longer wanting to talk with Irving at the moment, Greagoir tries to focus his attentions else where. "Where is the girl?"

Leaving the comfort of the darkness, Lily steps forward. "I...I am here, ser."

"You helped a damned blood mage! Look all that he has hurt!" The Knight Commander stands with his arms spread out, trying to express the shear magnitude of the matter at hand.

Ashamed, Lily bows her head, her face still void of any color. "I...I will accept any punishment you see fit. Even Aeonor."

"Get her out of my sight!" He nods to two of his templars, and they quickly escort the Sister out of the area. Still angered, Greagoir fixes Amell with a stern look. "And you two! You were in a repository full of magics that's locked away for a reason!"

"Did you take anything important from the repository?" Irving asks. Is he serious? Keira finds herself a bit insulted by the question. She's fairly certain that she had more important things on her mind then stealing.

"No. First Echanter...I..." Keira can hear her elven friend step forward.

"Actually, I took this. First Enchanter." Thalia hands a grunting Irving a staff.

"Shall we add thievery to your..."

"I took it." Amell lies, knowing the punishment for this might be sever, but doesn't want Thalia to face it. I don't think she could handle it, sorry, please forgive me for this fib my friend. Keira tries to plead with her eyes. _Thalia please keep quiet about this, you can berate me about it later._

"Your antics have made a mockery of this circle! Ah...what are we to do with you? You helped a blood mage escape, broke into the phylactery chamber, which is forbidden to all, save for Irving and myself. And to add to your list of misguided notions, you stole from the repository!" Greagoir is looking to punish someone. A blood mage gone, the repository broken into. Someone needs to pay.

"I was only following orders. However, the staff I took and I forced Surana to come along, I didn't want to go alone. These are things that were not instructed of me to do. I'm sorry, ser." Amell holds her head high, awaiting any punishment he deems worthy.

"Alright. Fine. You are to be escorted to the dungeons, there you will await my decision regarding your punishment. However, I'm starting to think that twenty lashes or a month in confinement might be suffice." Greagoir contemplates while rubbing the hair on his chin.

"Greagoir, as I said, they were following my instructions." Irving begins to argue.

"Listen Irving, you're not all-knowing. There's no way you could have known how far that blood mage's influence might have had. You're lucky I'm only punishing one of your mages." The Knight Commander tuns his back on the Enchanter and begins leaving the area. "Bring Amell downstairs and await my instructions. I will send a senior Knight when I've made up my mind."

* * *

It's cold, damp and dark down here, clad in nothing more then a beige garb, Keira shivers. The only warmth coming from a torch on the wall, she stares at it, hoping that Greagoir will send someone down here soon with word of her punishment. Although, not looking forward to what he might have planned for her, she'd rather have it done with already, then to sit here and imagine what he could have in store for her, that in itself seems disciplinary enough. For the pas six hours, her only form of company have been two of the templars that had been tossed around by Jowan. Two templars, who are becoming more anxious and bored by the minute. That's never a good sign. Never.

The Knight that still has his helm on, rises from the bench that he'd been sitting on and stretches. "That's it." His voice echoes behind the confines of his helmet. "Let's just do this. He said twenty lashes right? That's probably what she's going to get. Lets just get this over with." He makes his way towards the little frighten mage and pulls her by her restrained wrists.

The dark haired Templar that had been leaning against the wall sighs. "You know we can't do anything until the Commander says otherwise, or we could be the ones receiving his wrath."

"What's the worse that can happen? He gets all huffy puffy because we bruised up a mage?" The templar removes his helmet to reveal a shiny bald head and a scar that runs along the side of his face. Tugging roughly on her chains, the Knight raises her arms to meet a hook dangling from a thicker chain falling from the ceiling. After her restraints are secure, he makes his way to a crank, gives it a few turns and Keira's feet are no longer touching the ground. Staring down at the cobble stone beneath her now dangling feet, she swallows back a lump of alarm. _Deep breaths_. She reminds herself while closing her eye lids firmly. _Deep breaths._

The bald templar is fiddling with something in the background. Amell tries to look past one of her arms to get a better look at what he is doing, but to no avail. Focusing now on that same torch light, she tries not to pay any attention to the now burning sensation in her shoulders and arms. _Deep breaths Amell_. Inhaling from her nose and slowly letting the exhale escape past her lips, she tries to slow the beating of her heart, it's pounding under her rib cage and she's almost positive that her two guards can hear it.

"Alright mage." The bald Knight is inches away from her nose. "I'm gonna start with five lashes, then we will see how you're doing. Hopefully, you don't pass out right away, that would just ruin the game. Wouldn't it?" Now whispering so low only she can hear, he inches closer to her ear. "And if you're a good girl, maybe I'll give you a break." Keira can feel him take in her sent as he ducks his face in by the crook of her neck and shoulder. "Well, sort of."

"I want no part in this." The dark haired templar shakes his head and begins to leave the dungeons.

"Fine, but you're going to miss out!" The scarred templar nods, smirking to his comrade.

"I'll get over it...I'm sure." The other man locks the door behind him and heads down the corridor to take a seat on a stool.

Rolling his eyes in excitement, the templar before her licks his lips. "Right then." He steadies her form by sliding his hands down her curves and makes his way behind her. Keira's eyes grow wide as she makes out the sounds of leather and metal grazing the stone floor. Bringing her attention back to the torch once more, she waits. Her muscles tense with the dread of anticipating the first blow. Clinks of the armor behind her is the only hint of the on coming blow. There's a snap, and she gasps. Her eyes are flooded with tears of pain, her teeth grit together as she attempts to not cry out in pain. Another snap, another lash. Each time the same. She gasps, and her body burns with the ache of the abuse her back is being exposed to. Only five lashes, but Maker how it feels like fifty. How she wishes that she was going to receive fifty instead of what she knows is coming next.

Bear hands touch her bloodied and broken skin. Amell can feel her auburn hair tangle up at the small of her back, mixing with the sweat and the blood. "You know, I think you're quite tame now. Don't you?" The Knight raises her chin with his finger and thumb. Her head just lulls to the side, too weak to fight back. Seeing her so frail, the templar grabs a fist full of her hair, pulls her head back and kisses her hard. Keira struggles against his weight, trying to turn her face, but nothing works. Pulling away from her face, he trails nips and kiss to her shoulder. Grabbing a handful of her breast, his other hand presses against her back forcing her body to push up against his own. "Hmm, but as it seems...not tame enough."

The massive man rounds her again and lays on another five lashes. This time she's completely spent. Too tired and broken to care to even try to keep her eye lids open. The mage's ears can hear footsteps, a shuffle. The templar lets out a puff of air, and then there's a distinct metal on metal sound. Suddenly, her chains go slack and her body crashes to the ground. Dragging her by her cuffs, he hoists her up onto a large wooden torture table. The bald man pushes off all the left over equipment from the table to the floor. The metal and wooden objects send out a loud clatter of noise. Keira's long slender legs dangle over the side of the table, as she tries to concentrate on regaining some sort of coordination. Her eyes almost roll to the back of her skull when the Knight slams her down viciously into the wood grain.

His hands snake behind her knees, pulling her frame forward so that her legs wrap around his waist. "Now don't move, little mage." Rough, dry hands clasp gently onto her thighs and slowly make their way up, and then back down to her knees again. Bending forward, he takes in a deep breath, letting the sent of the skin at her neck take him over. His blue eyes grow dark, he grabs hold of her chained hands and locks them in a hook above her head on the table. "Remember, don't move."

Even if Keira wanted to struggle, it's not like she could. Barely able to stay conscious as it is, she can hardly register what's actually going on. "What..." She actually manages to form.

The bald templar removes his sash and relieves the mage of her under clothes with the help of his small knife. He moves his one hand to his cod piece and begins to ready himself for this new task. Just as he's about to press himself into the woman beneath him to relieve himself of the growing urges in his loins, the door flies open to reveal a very upset Cullen. The aroused templar's face in very quickly, very harshly introduced to Cullen's steel right gauntlet. The ferocious punch sends the bald man crashing to the ground, with several of his teeth breaking off and shattering onto the stone floor.

Cullen is fairly certain that he has broken the other man's nose, and very possibly his jaw. Allowing his anger to subside, he unlocks the shackled Amell, covers her with a discarded sheet and lifts her into his arms. The sudden movements seem to be a little too much for the battered mage and she passes out. The templar can feel a growl in his throat when he notices the blood that's staining the wood of the table. Looking to the woman in his arms, he takes in a breath of disbelief.

"By the Maker. What happened here?" Greagoir studies the scene. One templar, half dressed, sprawled out on the ground, another, he passed in the hall, and Cullen. His grey eyes land on the figure in the young man's arms. "By Andraste...what did he do...?"

"I told him to wait for orders, but he wouldn't listen to me, ser." The dark haired Templar tries to explain.

The Knight Commander looks to this troop stunned. "So instead, you let him carry out whatever it is he wishes while turning a blind eye? Why didn't you report to me?" The young man tries to justify his actions, but only stammers. "Whatever the reason, it's not good enough. You are to report to my office at once! I will deal with you later."

"Greagoir, this is exactly the type of treatment I've been telling you about for years. The mages in this tower are not safe with templars such as this roaming the halls." Irving juts out his chin in the direction of the bald templar.

"And what would you have me do, Irving?" Greagoir throws his hands in the air. "I can't turn down every Templar that comes through these doors. It's not like we have a list of Knights fighting to get in here. We need all those who choose to come here or who are shipped here. All I can do is try to keep the peace."

Letting a long exhale leave his nostrils, Irving places a hand on Amell's forehead. "Ah...Greagoir, you must see that keeping the peace is no longer doing anyone any good."

"I might have a suggestion." Comes a throaty voice from the darkness of the corridor.

* * *

Greagoir is at his limit of patience. Not only is this Grey Warden, Duncan, taking the two mages involved in the escape of the blood mage, but now he's also recruiting his top Templar Knight, Cullen. Perfect. "So you are taking two mages and one of my best men. Tell me, ser, how is this suppose to help the Circle."

Tired, Duncan sips at the water from his glass. "You said the tower was better off without trouble makers, such as Amell and Surana. I only see it fit that since I came here looking for mages to help fight against the blight, that I take those you deem no longer worthy to be here. Then you also expressed concern of having Circle mages running around Ferelden unguarded. I mentioned that I have someone who has experience in the art of being a Templar. You then expressed great disdain with this and made it very clear that you did not think it possible for one Templar to keep track of two mages. As I am also in need of warriors and skilled fighters, having a second Templar in our ranks, seems only to be a wise choice." The Commander of the Grey tries to offer a polite smile.

Greagoir is unconvinced. "So you take my best Knight? Unacceptable."

"I'm only looking for the best, the most dedicated. He seems to be just that, wouldn't you agree?" Duncan raises a brow in the Knight Commanders direction. "Fighting darkspawn requires great skill."

"I'm not allowing this. You can have the mages, but you are not taking any of my men. We are short staffed here as it is." Greagoir slams his fists on the top of his bureau.

"Be that as it may, the Chantry could always send you more Templar Knights. Besides, Knight Commander, the young man has accepted my offer and I'm using the Right of Conscription." Duncan places his now empty glass gently onto the desk, his eyes never leave those of Knight Commander.

"You wouldn't dare!" Greagoir shouts, shocked.

"I'm afraid you leave me no other choice." Duncan stands from his chair, bows sincerely to his host and then clears his throat. "We are leaving in two days time. That is when your senior healer, Wynne, said that Amell would be fit to travel. If I were you, I would use that time to send a letter to the Chantry requesting more Templars."

* * *

"Alright, Thalia. I think you've fit everything possible into that bag." Amell studies her now very packed satchel and back pack. She knows that her friend is just trying to over compensate. "Thalia, sweety please, go get your stuff ready. I'm sure you're probably forgetting something." Keira places a hand on her elven friends shoulder.

"Fine, fine." Surana heads to her room, a place she had only been able to actually spend the night in three times. She sighs to herself, knowing that it's her fault that they are forced to leave their home, that it's her fault Keira... _Can't think of that._ She sniffles, dabs at her moisten eyes with her scarf and begins the task of sorting her things. The young elf comes across a ruin, a gift she had received from Jowan one year for her birthday. Anger building in her gut, she tosses the stone against the wall and it shatters. _Thank the Maker Cullen had arrived before that Templar could...Stop thinking of these things!_ She places her poultice bags on her hip, her pack on her back and grabs her staff. Taking one last longing look at her new appointed room, she heaves a heavy sigh and heads back to Amell's quarters.

"All set?" Keira chirps cheerfully. Thalia nods, faking a smile. "Good. We're to meet up with Cullen and Duncan in the main hall."

The two women make their way down the winding steps and find Irving, Cullen and Duncan waiting for them. To their surprise, Cullen no longer adorns his Templar uniform, instead he's dressed in a simple beige tunic, brown slacks and leather boots. Keira gawks and Thalia's eyes grow big. Both are a bit stunned.

Trying to avoid their stares and blushing a bit, Cullen clears his throat. "What?"

Keira blinks a few times. "Oh, uhm nothing. We've just never seen you without your Templar armor." She laughs. "And you're still pretty intimidating." He knows she's referring to his actual height and seize, and not his demeanor. These comments only fuel the color of his reddened face and he's forced to busy himself to try and cover his obvious embarrassment.

"We will be supplying in a near by town. I have already made arrangements there with a friend to supply us with proper armor and garments." Duncan informs his new recruits.

Thalia mouths the word. _'Oh'_

Irving hugs each of the female mages. "We will all miss you both. The tower won't quite be the same without you two around." He places a hand on each of their faces, and looks upon them as a loving father would onto two daughters that he cherishes. "I for one will find it strange here without your presence. But enough about me, this is a great opportunity for those of youth." The two women return his embrace with one of their own.

"As for you." The First Enchanter stands in front of Cullen, with his hands firmly clasped behind his back. "You've already proven that you can protect them. But know that I expect no less. Continue to protect them, but do not govern them. They are no longer the concerns of the Chantry and you are no longer that which enforces Chantry law. Do you understand?" Irving awaits his answer patiently.

"I do." Cullen nods. "I will protect them, until my last breath, First Enchanter." He answers honestly and bows his head in respect.

"Good. I'll hold you to that." The old man winks and walks away.

Cullen looks longingly to the tower steps, hoping that Greagoir, a man who had been like a father to him, would at least show to see him off. Seeing that the only thing in the area is darkness and nothing more, Cullen allows his shoulders to slump as he begins to follow the group.

"Cullen." A serious voice booms behind the former Templar, and for just a moment, Cullen can actually feel his heart fill with what he assumes is relief and happiness. Greagoir waves his former Knight over. Smiling, Cullen jogs over to his former Commanding officer, who places an arm around his shoulder and begins talking in a very low voice. "Listen. I don't like any of this. I'm glad to know that I will have someone such as yourself keeping an eye on those mages. If any of them so much as show a sign of corruption, you strike them down. Remember your vows, Knight. Do you understand?"

Cullen's smile fades and he must be showing his inner struggle, because Greagoir is glaring into his eyes. "You must do this! You're part of the order, a brother in arms." Greagoir grabs Cullen by the left wrist and yanks up the material there to reveal a black tattooed Sword of Andraste on his forearm. "I know that Irving probably forced you to make some sort of ridiculous promise. And I know that you're a man of your word, but remember your allegiance is here, with us, with the Chantry. Above all, this is what matters." Greagoir waits, patiently staring at his former Knight.

Nodding, Cullen's heart sinks. Not only is he fighting an inner battle, but now he knows that eventually he'll have to make a choice. "There's a good lad." Greagoir pats the young man on the back. "Do remember, there's always a place for you here." This is not the goodbye he was hoping for, specially from someone he looked up to as a father figure. After all, what was he expecting? A heart felt talk? A hug? No. However, a 'take care of yourself' would have been nice, he concludes. Now more depressed then when he was originally taking his leave, Cullen slumps his shoulders even further and doesn't look back this time. He knows The Knight Commander is watching them all climb into the boat, but for some reason, Cullen could care less. Deep down inside, he knows that he's nothing more then a soldier to this man, his mentor, and nothing more. For the first time in his life, Cullen feels a bit jealous of the two mages in the boat with him. Jealous at the fact that they are probably actually cared for. That Irving is probably sincere in wanting no harm to come to them. And for this, Cullen concludes, he'll protect both these women, even if it means he won't survive. His brown eyes dart from one young woman to the next, they are both staring off in the distance, calmly awaiting the shore line, something they've never seen before.

 _So it begins._ Duncan exhales, deep in thought, enjoying the fresh air. "We make way for Redcliffe village, then we are heading for Highever." Duncan informs his recruits and then turns his attention to the lake, waiting patiently to see the shore.


	2. Chapter Two : On Solid Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : I've had most of these chapters available on a different site for years now. I've finally made it over to AO3 and I'm happy I did. I will try to add chapters as soon as possible. Thanks for the kudos. Please Remember to R&R!

**Chapter Two : On Solid Ground**

There are things to miss in the world beyond Kinloch Hold, the fresh air as one takes in a deep breath is the first thing that comes to mind for Cullen. Tilting his head back, he opens his eyes and stares at the darkening sky, its first few stars just beginning to make an appearance in the hues of purples and oranges. This is the first time in a long time, that he leaves the tower without any armor, or other templars. Glancing back at the island, hidden by a rising fog, he allows a lop sided grin to etch it's way across his face. His heavy steps begin to carry him across the dock as he looks away from his former home. Adjusting his sword and shield on his back as he walks, he notices something peculiar, the two mages are holding hands and tip toeing onto the grass, barefoot and laughing. Cullen snorts out a small snicker and continues to follow Duncan.

"Have they never left the tower? Even just to linger outside on the grounds of the island?" Duncan notices their strange behavior as well. Cullen only shakes his head.

"No. Only full fledged mages are permitted on the island." Cullen turns his attention to the Grey Warden. "Amell, she went through her H-Harrowing not but a week ago. Thalia, only three days ago."

Lifting a brow, Duncan continues his march to the little Inn. "I see." As if deep in thought, Duncan eyes Cullen from the corner of his eyes. "You were present for both of their Harrowings, weren't you." He states, rather then questions.

Again, Cullen nods. "Y-yes, ser. Being the one that's counted on, to preform the striking blow...s-should the mage turn...was never part of the job I enjoyed." He lowers his gaze to the grass as they continue their walk. The Grey Warden makes a mental note, and tucks it away in his memories for the time being. "The Spoiled Princess, ser?"

Duncan stops at the door, his eyes drift to the two women that are now standing in the freezing waters of Lake Calenhad. "I have some business to attend to here. A friend of mine has some supplies for traveling. I'm hoping to also acquire rooms for the night. We will begin our journey in the morning." His eyes then land on Cullen. "Do keep an eye on them." With that, he pushes on the door and enters the small establishment.

Cullen leans against the solid foundation of the Inn and continues to _'keep an eye'_ on the two girls. He drops his pack to the ground with a small thud. His only possessions are few. However, the coin he has on himself, is quite large. There were many nights, where his fellow templar brothers would persuade him to actually cross the Lake on their off time. They would all wind up here, drinking. Cullen on the other hand, has never been one for the stuff. He enjoys a good drink every now and then, but unlike his comrades, he doesn't see the point of drinking every time they are on off time. He can remember very clearly, how they would give him a hard time.

_"It's relax time, Cullen. Plenty of women here..."_

_"You don't have anything else to spend your coin on..."_

Politely, every single time, he would decline. He had no need for the things the other men so often wished for. Women, booze. _Why bother?_ The way Cullen viewed it, as soon as you gave yourself to the Order, you basically said you had no time for a family. No time for flights of fancy. Sure, you could enjoy being in the company of good friends and having a drink. But why would someone torture themselves with the company of a woman? A woman that you could never love. What was the point? Cullen assumed that his brothers only wanted to enjoy a night here and there with a companion just to know what it was like, or just because they liked it. But every so often, he would talk to one of his fellow templars and they would speak of wishes of having a family. A life other then this. So, being the level headed person that he is, he thought it best to never even touch a woman. _You won't crave what you don't know you're missing...Right?_ Or so he thought.

So, unlike the other men, Cullen had most of his pay from all of his years in service, which was a lot, saved up. Snatching up a blade of grass and placing it in his mouth, he lets out a breath through his nostrils and laughs lightly at this thought. _Here's your rainy day Ser._

The sun is setting, he notices, not the first sunset _he's_ seen, certainly not Amell's and Surana's. They've seen it before, from the _windows_. But as the last light of the day slowly drifts away behind the Lake and the Mountains, the two mages stand stark still in their tracks, amazed. He witnesses a silent smile of wonder that the two women share between one another. Their fingers are still intertwined and their grip tightens. This is the first time, he concludes, that they really understand what's actually going on. Not only are they basically free, but they are leaving the only home they've ever known, the only family they've ever seen. Cullen's smile fades. The grip on each others hand doesn't tighten because they are joyful, but because they are frightened. They know nothing of the outside world. It's rules, it's people, it's forests. He vows to himself right then and there, to teach them as much as he can, because if he were to drop dead within the next few days, they would be utterly lost and alone. A shutter of dread creeps through him at this thought.

"Alright. I've managed to secure two rooms for the night. One for the ladies." Duncan drops a key in the Templars hand. "And one for yourself. Do try and get some rest."

Confused, Cullen spits out the grass and looks up at this man, who by the way scared him half to death when he exited the building without so much as a peep for noise. "Uhh...pardon my confusion, ser. But where will you be staying?"

Surveying their surroundings, Duncan crosses his arms. "Out here." Without looking at the young man, the Grey Warden can still sense his mixed feelings. "It's alright, lad. I rarely sleep these days. Now go, rest. I will usher the two young ladies to do the same."

Studying the other man for a minute, Cullen's gut tells him that this Duncan isn't telling him everything. "Thank-you, ser." He picks up his bag and enters the Inn. There's also another thing his gut is telling him, that this journey is not going to be easy, and somehow he knows, that joining the Wardens, will not be icing on anyone's cake.

* * *

Redcliffe, is strange. Amell decides. Strange, because it has a familiar smell of Lake Calenhad, so in a way it reminders her of home...well the Tower. However, there's another odor she can't quite make out, but decides right away that she does not enjoy its aroma. The ruff terrain here, hurts the soles of her feet, she assumes that it bothers Thalia as well, but she doesn't say anything. Mage slippers were not designed with the intention of travel, that's clear. Thank the Maker that mages do travel with a staff. Keira has completely lost count of how many times she's stumbled or tripped on something, and has had to rely on her staff to quite literally save her ass. To add to her dilemmas, the wounds on her back have not completely healed over. She's fairly certain, that because of a few wrong twists to her torso, that she has more then likely reopened some of those gashes. Keira is thankful, that before they left, Wynne was able to heal most of the bigger cuts. Crossing a little bridge, the group begins to descend a hill that leads to the heart of the village. Now this she can do, it's just like going down the stairs in the Tower. She reminds herself. _Just like going down the stairs..._

Straightening her posture, she begins to trek down the hill behind Duncan and Thalia, whom seem to be in a deep conversation about healing and herbs. As she descends down the road, the sunlight peaks through some clouds and she's able to make out the silhouette of boats on the shore and in the lake. No longer paying attention to her footing, she looses her barrings, her staff falls from her grip with a clang to the ground and bounces a few times. Her body, she's sure, is going to hate her for these new bruises that she's about to acquire. Just as she braces herself for impact, she shuts her eyes and...

_Nothing._

Opening one eye, her face forming a wince, she sees that the edge of the road leads to a drop off, one that she almost became very acquainted with. Keira takes in a deep breath and turns her gaze up to see Cullen's jaw and neck. The former templar is standing firmly behind her, his one arm hooked into the crook of her own and his other around her waist. He's peering over the edge. Amell lets out a low whistle as she pushes a few pebbles with her foot over the cliff and they clatter on the stony bottom. "That was a close one." She looks back up, but all she can see is his jawline.

Being careful, as to not accidentally send her crashing down, Cullen drags the silly mage away from harm. "Y-yes, well...uhm, you s-should really watch where you are going. That fall would have killed you."

Gulping down her fear, Keira picks up her staff and dusts off her robe, as she brings her eyes back to the road, she notices Thalia and Duncan shaking their heads at her in disbelief. Shrugging her shoulders, the mage meets their gaze with her own. "What?"

Thalia shakes her head, flicks her hair back and continues her conversation with Duncan. Carefully, Keira continues walking along the road, this time allowing Cullen to walk beside her, just in case.

* * *

After a full day in Redcliffe, everyone has managed to stock up on items they need. Cullen is now clad in heavy chain mail, since he'll be traveling a lot, he figured that it would be the right thing to go with, dark slacks, boots to match the armor and he carries a helm under his arm. He still has the same sword and shield. After two days on the road, bathing and getting dressed in clean clothing is almost a luxury. A luxury, Cullen knows from experience, that they will only come by every once and a while. The new pack he has purchased, is both lighter and larger then his last. With the extra room, he's been able to buy extra clothing, weapon polish and has actually been able to find someone that would sell him Lyrium.

_Lyrium._ He knows it's something Duncan must know about, and it's something that they must discuss soon, very soon.

Keira eyes her friend, as the elf mage approaches her. Thalia, now in Tervinter Robes, smiles warmly and waves as she makes her way over to the other woman. Amell can't help but notice that the little elf's new robes of choice leave very little to the imagination. Surana also carries a new staff, it's silver and has two dragon heads that meet and caress a blue orb. Keira, gleams at her own staff, knowing that trading in her last for this current one she holds, was indeed the right choice. A new beginning, starts with the smallest of things. Exchanging her former stave for this one, was more then just a transaction, but a statement, that's she's ready. Ready to make new memories, ready to be a mage, ready to move on, and most importantly, ready to serve and protect her homeland.

"So this is what you picked out?" While clacking her tongue, Surana studies the mage before her. Keira's dressed in a green robe that's cut off at the neck and shoulders, it has bell sleeves that stretches beyond her finger tips. All of the trim and embroidery has been painstakingly stitched in golds and hues of brown. The entire outfit is bound together by a protective leather corset that covers her chest and abdomen very strategically, but very beautifully all at once.

"Yes." Amell eyes her friend from head to toe. "And you've decided to go with something...less constricting...I see."

"You bet!" Thalia folds her hands behind her back. While stretching up onto the tips of her toes, the elf examines the weapon of choice in Keira's hand. "This is...different." Thalia's eyes follow the staffs etchings all the way down to its... "Keira, you do know that there is a blade at the end of your staff, right?"

Chuckling, the older mage twists the weapon in her grip and stares at it lovingly. "Yes, I'm aware. It'll be more effective in battle, I wager."

"Aye, that it will. But I think we should all start taking bets on how long it'll be..." Thalia smirks, waiting for her friend to take the bait.

"How long it'll be till what?"

Her smile broadening, Surana leans in. "How long it'll take for you to skewer yourself on that blasted thing!" A roar of laughter takes her over and the elven girl can't help but bend over and place her hands on her knees to support herself.

Pouting, Keira brushes past her ecstatic friend, only to pause and whisper. "Oh, by the way Thalia, your rump is in plain view when you are positioned that way." Hearing her friends chuckling die off, Amell continues walking, grinning.

* * *

"That was a nice thing for you to do, if I might say so, s-ser." Cullen travels alongside Duncan, the two women not to far ahead of them. Both of the men, constantly look out for the dangers they know that lurk in these bushes and on these roads.

"Hmmm?" The Grey Warden seems deep in thought. Cullen gestures with his chin and brow to the two females. "Ah. Equipping them, you mean."

The templar nods. "Y-you didn't have to do that, but you did." Duncan can see questions lingering in the young mans eyes.

"And you want to know why. Why would anyone help out two mages?" The old man snickers. "You see, they are no longer just mages..." His cheeks rise as a small smile appears and laugh lines at the corners of his aged eyes form. His thick voice continues. "Now, they are potential Grey Wardens, as are you. This means they are brethren. Even as recruits, Grey Wardens are a family of sorts. Brothers and Sisters of the Grey, we fight together, we live together and we die together." Duncan turns his head to glance at Cullen. "This way, no matter what our backgrounds, no one is truly alone."

With a new found appreciation for this organization, Cullen allows his gaze to wonder back to the women up ahead. His inner turmoil still stirring deep within his core. Mages, a part of something other then the Circle. This thought alone is very perplex. For them to be part of something so great. Cullen chews at the inside of his cheek and lip, concluding to allow himself time to think on this.

* * *

It's been hours since they've left Redcliffe, but to Keira, it feels like they been walking for days. Learning from their previous trek, the first thing Keira purchased in the small village, was the best pair of traveling leather boots she could find. This has proven to be a very educated decision. For the first time, since they've begun their journey, Keira no longer feels the constant aches of what the others call _shin splints_ and she no longer has to stop every half hour to heal the soles of her own blistered feet. Smiling at her accomplishment, she volunteers to start the camp fire and prepare a meal.

Being the only one with any actual talent for the culinary arts, she'd been promptly appointed cooking duties. Which, she really doesn't mind. Finding herbs for meals, no problem, being able to point them out for the use of healing...well that's not such a good idea. A basic healing poultice, she can handle, anything more complex, she usually handed it off to Thalia.

Placing her logs in a nice formation, Keira places a large stone over the top and begins frying the rabbit Duncan had snared earlier. In her pot, she boils water and adds a few carrots, potatoes, herbs and salt.

"I'm so glad you're the one cooking." Surana pears over her friends shoulders, watching and hoping to learn something.

Keira giggles. "Well I'm glad you're the one making all the potions." She can feel the tiring weight of her elven friend press into her. "You tired Thal? Maybe you should get some rest." Leaning forward a bit, trying not to disturb the other mage, Keira tosses a few more ingredients into the pot.

"Not yet, I'm hungry."

The leaves crunch under the weight of Duncan's foot steps as he approaches the fire. Cullen takes a seat on a near by log and watches the older man, knowing that the Warden is about to inform them of something.

"Tomorrow we head for Highever. It should take three days, but once there, Cullen..." The Commander glances at the templar, then at the older mage. "And Keira, will remain. While Thalia and myself make way for Denerim." The three recruits look at each other then back to their Commander, confused, but not about to argue. "There are a few potentials in Highever that The Wardens are interested in recruiting. There are, also a few in Denerim. However, time is of the essence and we need to be quick. This is already a slow process to begin with and the blight is upon us." Duncan roles his shoulders and looks to Keira and Cullen. "Teyrn Bryce Cousland is already fully aware that The Grey Wardens are looking for potentials and has arranged a tournament to take place in two weeks time. We are looking for skilled fighters. Cullen I want you to hand pick two of the best. But I must warn, you're not only looking for someone who can best others in a duel, you are looking for someone with the will to strive, no matter the odds."

Understanding the statement, Cullen nods agreeing. Duncan's focus then turns to Amell. "You must be wondering why it is I want you to remain in Highever." The mage only blinks in return, still a little lost. From the corner of his eyes, the Warden briefly scans Cullen, who's tracing lines in the dirt with a twig. "Unfortunately, from the time they take their vows, templars are fed lyrium, the Chantry claims that it helps develop their talents." Clearing his throat, he brings his attention back to Keira, who is now silently studying her templar comrade. "Later on however, they become addicted. Since the only supplies of lyrium are contracted to the Chantry, it would be wise to end Cullen's dependance on it as soon as possible."

Thalia stretches her back and ties her hair into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. "How do you know all of this?"

Duncan takes a seat and adjusts his posture. "I recruited a young man, a few months back, before he had taken his vows."

"And he just told you everything? Spilled all of The Chantry's secrets then?" Cullen huffs out and tosses his twig into the fire, a bit angered at the betrayal of a fellow Brother.

"No. He intrusted me with certain information in case The Wardens ever recruited another Templar." The Commander shakes his head lightly, while blinking slowly. "It is of no matter."

"So, why do I need to go to Highever?" Keira removes the pot and rabbit from the fire and begins preparing everyone's plates.

"You are the senior mage here." He hears Amell snort gently. "No matter how long you've been a full mage, you are still the senior. Also, I believe out of the two of you..." Duncan glances between the two women. "I believe that you've known Cullen the longest and have a mutual understanding of one another, or if I do dare say some sort of mild friendship." He sees that everyone is still a bit uncertain. "Cullen will more then likely go through some form of with drawls. It's to my understanding, that some templars, when going through these with drawls, tend to get confused. They sometimes forget places they've been, people they know or memories, things of that nature. I believe that having someone familiar around might help Cullen not feel so disorientated. Depending on how long he's been using lyrium, will affect the outcome of how long it will take him to recover."

The Templar and The Mage share a look of concern as she hands him his dinner plate. Amell makes her way around the fire pit and hands Duncan his meal. "Bryce has been generous and granted each of you with your own quarters. He's also been informed of...your state." The Warden begins tearing his bread and placing it in his stew. "That is why the tournament is scheduled two weeks away. Hopefully, that gives you enough time to conquer this obstacle."

Cullen only stares at the flames that dance in front of him, licking the night's cool air and generating a glow that surrounds them. The embers crack and spit tiny flickers of sparks that are sent flying off into the blackness of the night.

"I know this is not something you look forward to." Taking a drink of his tea, Duncan continues to study his recruit. "But having a mage at your side, will also help."

"It must be done." The templar shakes off his revery. "It would only delay us later on. A-and it's as you said, there's not really any other way to purchase lyrium."

Duncan places his tea on the ground. "But you do have some with you now? Am I correct?"

Not being able to look at anyone, Cullen nods and begins eating his meal.

"Good. We can start watering down your intakes." The Commander takes his last piece of bread and wipes up the leftover stew with it. "By the time we reach Highever, your body should be getting use to receiving smaller amounts." He dusts off his hands of any remaining bread crumbs and hands his plate to Thalia who's making the rounds for dishes to clean. She takes the saucer with a smile from everyone and makes her way to the river bed to finish her chore.

"Now, rest. I will take first watch."

* * *

Surveying from the road, Duncan takes in a breath. Highever, is more then just a village. It's home. A place with lush lands, high hills and beautiful scenery. The breeze here is still exactly the way he had remembered it, cool and swift, carrying the scent of the Waking Sea. The gates to the massive enclosure open as they approach, the two women let out small gasps of wonder as they pass through the entrance and look up at the towering structure.

"I will speak with the Teyrn and then stock up on supplies. After that, we will take leave for Denerim." He informs Thalia and then heads towards the two large wooden doors.

Keira spots the conversation between Duncan and Thalia and suddenly becomes very apprehensive. This will be the first time, since she'd been brought to the tower, that she'll be without another mage. She'll be outside of Kinloch and without another mage, basically alone with a templar, who by the way might be loosing his mind. Panic, anxiety... _Breathe Keira, breathe..._

"Keira!" Thalia has the older mage by the shoulders. "Helloooo? Are you having a panic attack?"

"Yes...yes I am." Amell gulps back and steadies herself against her staff. "I...I can't do this."

"Yes. You can." Surana assures with a calm voice. Gently she pushes back one of Keira's stray hair strands. "This is kind of like the Tower. You got your confinement, your guards and a templar. Just like home." Thalia's grip tightens.

"No." The other mage disagrees. "Nuh uh. Not at all." She takes in a shaky breath. "There are no other mages. Everyone here, will stare at me like I'm sort of freak. I'll be harassed..."

"By the Maker, Keira. That's exactly like home." The two women laugh. "Listen, you'll be fine. He's a good Templar Knight, he'll actually watch over you. He's done a good job at it so far." Surana reminds her friend gesturing to her back. "If he hadn't shown up when he did..."

"I know." The dark haired mage shuts her eyes and rests her forehead against that of her friends.

"I don't know what I would've done if that ...he tortured you...for something I...it should have been me, Keira. Why did you do that?" A few tears escape the elven woman's eyes and trail down to her chin.

"It's done my friend, don't dwell on it." Cupping the sides of the younger woman's face, Keira smiles. "And I'd do it again, you're like a little sister to me and I love you."

Thalia shifts, her eyes still closed. "I love you too."

"Now, make sure to do whatever that man tells you to. Do you hear me? He's wise and will look after you." Keira embraces her fellow mage.

"I will." Surana wraps her arms around her friends frame, her hands resting on the other woman's shoulder blades. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

Watching their display of affection, Cullen can't help but feel a bit sorry for them. They've gone through most of their entire lives with each other, now they're being torn apart and thrown into unknown territories. Such a thing to face alone, must be frightening for them.

Keira catches the Templar staring at them, giving Thalia one final hug, she pulls away. She glances over her shoulder and watches his form disappear behind a door. Now it's her turn to feel a pang of guilt. This templar has no one around he cares for, if he cares for anyone, has no one around from the Tower that he trusts at his side, and it's all their doing. Lowering her head, she feels it weighing down on her like a heavy burden, guilt. For what she's brought upon him. The trials of having to be weaned off of lyrium, like some drugged crazed loony. The shame and loss of having to leave the Order and everything he's been taught and ever known behind. His friends, his home and his duties. All tossed aside, as if he hadn't spent his entire child hood and young adolescent life striving to achieve to become every bit a Knight that he was meant to be. None of this had set in until just now, when he gave her that look. That look of regret and solitude.

No, he is the one that's truly alone here.

* * *

With their goodbyes done and the introductions to the Cousland's over with, Keira settles into her room. The sun is setting just outside her window and it catches her attention as she's about to pull her journal out from her pack. A warm feeling settles in her chest, a feeling of familiarity. Stone walls tend to do that for her. Smiling at this silly notion, she begins to climb into her bed, but is interrupted when someone knocks at her door.

"I'm sorry, I'm not a healer, as I've already stated..." When she opens the door, she's stunned to find Cullen standing there, covered in sweat and looking a little pale. "Cullen..."

"I-I...don't feel well." One of his large hands grip at the door frame trying to keep himself from falling face first into the flooring. "And...well...I-I think it's the...that Duncan talked about..."

Realizing what he's trying to explain, Keira ushers him in. "Maker. I'm sorry. You just surprise me. Please sit." She steadies him, she hopes, by gently guiding him to her bed. "Sit. Please."

The templar does as she asks. "I-I'm sorry...I-I know you're not a healer...but you do know some healing..."

"Yes. But I'm afraid even a healer could not help you with this." Keira assumes that he knows this, but figures he just didn't want to be alone, in a place that's foreign to him. His eyes close when she places the back of her hand to his forehead. "You have a fever." She places the water basin next to the bed and dips a cloth into the water. Whispering a few words, the bowl suddenly becomes covered in a light coat of frost. The mage rings out the cold water and wipes down his face and neck. The Templar lets out a gasp and then shows signs of relief. The little mage places the cloth back into the water. Not thinking anything of it, she places a hand on his back and one on his chest.

It's as she feared. "You're burning up. I can feel the heat through your shirt." Although, Cullen is shivering a great deal, his body temperature continues to rise. "We need to cool you down." He doesn't answer, only continues to sit with his eyes closed. She examines her patient for a moment and then concludes that something has to be done. Pulling at the leather string at the top of his shirt, Amell begins undoing the opening of his shirt. A strong grip circles her tiny wrist within a flash.

"Don't...don't do that." He warns in a low voice.

"Cullen, I have to. I'm only going to place a bit of cold water on your chest. Alright? We need to cool down your core temperature." The templar doesn't answer, but he also doesn't let go of her arm. Pressing the flap of his shirt to the side to expose the area near his collar bone, she turns to grab the cool cloth with her other free hand. "This will be cold." She presses the damp rag to his chest and he heaves in a breath. "Just relax." She can feel his entire frame shivering under her palms. His shoulders slump forward and his head begins to lower as he tries to somehow keep himself warm.

"W-why am I so cold?" His grip on her loosens and the mage gently pulls away.

"Lie down." Keira guides him by the shoulders to the mattress. This time she places the compress on his forehead. His body still shivers, so she covers him with the blankets she'd been provided with. She makes her way to the the fireplace and readies a tea that Wynne had taught her.

"Keira...?" He tries to open his eyes to look for her, but fails.

"I'm not going anywhere. Just getting a tea ready for you, alright." Sitting on the edge of the bed, she takes the cloth from his forehead. "Maker..." The rag was only on him but for a few seconds, and already it's scorching hot. Looking down on him with concern, she places her hand on the skin over his forehead once more. "Cullen, I think we are in for a long night." She continues to tend to him like a mother would a small child. Chewing at her lip in frustration, wishing Thalia were here to help, she sighs knowing she only has a few options left. She begins slowly pulling back the covers. "Cullen, you need to let me cool you down. I know that you feel like you're freezing...but in reality you have a really high fever."

Hesitating, he squints up at her slowly blurring face and accepts her help, allowing the mage to help him sit up and remove his sweat soaked shirt. Trying to stop the assault of oncoming shivers, the templar wraps his arms around himself and draws up his knees. The loud chattering of his teeth is drowned out as he flexes his jaw. As he begins to let his eye lids close, he can feel the shuffling of the little mage on the bed. Cullen tries to focus on the words that she's speaking, but her speech sounds muffled. Keira's small hands are then gently resting on the crown of his head. Then, all at once, a cool sensation is slowly making it's way over him. The mage slides her hands down to the back of Cullen's neck, and he finds that he can't help but let his head hang forward. Taking a look under heavy eye lids, the Knight can see Amell kneeling just before him, her head low, whispering some sort of spell, while her hands surround his face and her fingers press gently into his neck.

Then her hands are naturally warm again, and she's forcing him to look up at her. All groggy and exhausted, he attempts to force his eyes open. "Your eyes are a bit glossy, but you're fever is down." Filling the bowl with hot water from the kettle, she begins the task of wiping him down, to rid him of any sweat she can reach. "Sorry."

Cullen's head sways to the side. "For what? I-I should be thanking you."

Keira's mouth forms a line. "You're welcome. I'm no healer, but that seemed to work, for now." She wrings out the rag and continues brushing it over his face and then his chest. "I know that most templars, well..." She clears her throat and hands him the tea she'd prepared. "Haven't really had much physical contact...well I meen from a woman...or mages in general. I'm just assuming that this is very uncomfortable for you right now." She drops the cloth back into the bowl, and pushes the little table aside.

"Yes, but it's the least of my worries." He makes a sour face as he deposits the now empty mug aside. "What was in that drink? It was foul." The Templar hugs himself again trying to ward off the cold chills racing through his bones. Seeing this from the corner of her eye, the mage helps him lie down, which he does, in a fetal position. She inwardly giggles at the sight of this massive man, brought down to a child like posse. "Rest here." She drags a lazy hand through his hair, an innocent gesture on her part meant to comfort, which she realizes, that this man might consider inappropriate. Pulling her hand away, she places a chair at the side of the bed and takes a seat.

"So what was in that tea?" Cullen attempts a conversation, trying to make the air in the room feel a little more at ease.

"Liquorice root, ginger, chamomile and elfroot." He makes a very noticeable grimace of disgust. "It's not the most delicious thing, but it's the one thing Wynne taught me that I always use when I'm feeling ill." She watches him, as his tired, heavy eyes stare back at her. "Sleep." She says softly, without thinking she begins brushing her fingers through his hair again. It's a natural instinct she has, when she's taking care of someone, she always tends to finger comb their hair. After a short time, his eye lids slowly begin to fall. The mage Amell, remains seated, still running her fingers through his hair and still alert, watching her templar friend. Seems only fitting, specially after all the times he had stood on guard watching her, making her feel safe.

A/N : Yes the robe I described is basically the blue one from the concept art for DAO. Accept, in my mind Keira's is green with gold trim. I've divided our little group, only because if they were to stop everywhere, it would take almost a year to get to Ostagar. I'm trying to make it so that they get there in at least 2 months time. I know the time line is different from the game, but meh...that's what makes this that much more fun. In my story, the Wardens have known of the new blight for some time now. It would only make sense to start recruiting new Wardens ahead of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Yes the robe I described is basically the blue one from the concept art for DAO. Accept, in my mind Keira's is green with gold trim. I've divided our little group, only because if they were to stop everywhere, it would take almost a year to get to Ostagar. I'm trying to make it so that they get there in at least 2 months time. I know the time line is different from the game, but meh...that's what makes this that much more fun. In my story, the Wardens have known of the new blight for some time now. It would only make sense to start recruiting new Wardens ahead of time.


	3. Chapter Three : Choices and People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Personally, I've always loved fics with super long chapters. Don't know why, just the way that I am. So I've always tended to fan out my own fics that way. Not sure if it's a bother, but hopefully it's still interesting regardless. Please R&R

**Chapter Three : Choices and People**

The bed is actually comfortable for once, the air is warm. The soft blankets are tucked under the templar's chin, as he lifts his face from the materiel's embrace. Wincing, he tries to get his eyes to focus in the darkened room. The only source of light, is a dying flame in the fireplace. Frogs, insects and other animals can be heard, with their nocturnal noises just outside the opened window. Still scanning the area, Cullen realizes that he's certainly not in his room and he is most certainly not at home. _Kinloch Hold, that's right._ He remembers. _Duncan, the two mages, Highever._ Slowly and carefully he presses his weight onto his elbows forcing himself to sit up. As he props himself up, he begins to feel dizzy. Brown eyes begin to roll back and he's forced to put a hand to his forehead, in hopes to steady himself. The room feels as if it's spinning, and now the once welcomed warmth, seems to be just the thing to be causing him to feel light headed.

"M-Maker...I need air." Cullen's ear twitches at the sounds of wilderness, a reminder that the small window is open. Taking a deep breath, he places his feet on the cold stone flooring. "W-where did my boots go..." Blinking slowly, the templar attempts to locate his footwear, but with no luck. Exhaling, he presses his palms against the mattress and forces his shaking arms to push his massive bulk up. The frame of the bed is cool when he grasps it for leverage. He takes a few more steps and then collapses to his knees in front of the little framed window. Crossing his arms on the frame, he lowers his head onto his quivering forearms.

"Andraste...why do I feel like this?" A ragged breath is sucked into his lungs as he focuses on not loosing what little he has left in his stomach. Again, some memories come back to him. _Lyrium...with-drawls._ That one word, _Lyrium,_ an every day _thing_ that he thought so little of, like eating dinner or shaving, it was just part of life. Now, no more. His body trembles. He remembers watering down the last bit, like Duncan had instructed him to do, then having the last drink of it just before arriving at Highever. The muscles in his arms and back begin to ache and his stomach begins to do things to him that he never thought possible.

As the door creeks and opens behind him, Cullen slumps further onto the floor. Keira makes her way to the little table and deposits a tray of food and tea. Just now noticing the templar seated on the floor, she cautiously makes her way towards him. "Cullen? Are you alright?" He doesn't seem to hear her, or if he does, he just chooses not to reply. "Cullen." She pulls off one of the covers as she walks by the bed and places it around his shoulders as she kneels down beside him.

Peeking up from his wall of arms, he regards her a bit lost. "Amell? W-what are you...Uhhh." He wraps an arm around his stomach and crouches as the trembles and the muscle pains start to take him over.

"Cullen. You're at Highever, with me. Duncan and Thalia are gone to Denerim." She studies his movements and tries to encourage him to stand.

Letting out a few puffs of breaths with his cheeks, pushing out the air and then quickly sucking it back in, he tries to follow her commands. "Oh...I...I don't know if this is a good idea."

"Alright, just sit here for a moment." He hears her clothing rustle and her robes drag along the stone flooring as her foot steps pad away lightly, and then she's back. Cullen feels her tugging at his upper arm. "Eat and drink something, I brought up all kinds of things. I didn't know what you would like."

Just the thought of food makes him feel uneasy. He lifts his head from the comfort of his arms and slowly looks down at the tray placed beside him. Vision out of focus, he can't really tell what's all there. "Some tea, or water please." Suddenly, the feeling of embarrassment is the only thing washing over him. The fact that he utterly counts on her to poor him a glass of liquid, is more humiliating than anything he can think of at the moment.

"Sugar or cream?" She asks and sees him shake his head slightly. "Plain it is." Holding out the mug to him, she offers a comforting smile.

The templar leans his back against the wall and allows his head to rest against the stone. Finding that the room is spinning again, he shuts his eyes, willing it to _stop._ Suddenly feeling very warm again, he welcomes the chilly structure that's making contact with his skin. "Would y-you be able to chill that...please...if...if you don't mind." He asks, not once opening his eyes to see her reaction or answer.

Taken aback, she tilts her head to the side. "Uhm...alright." Within seconds, a cold frost is covering the ceramic mug. Keira guides his hand to wrap around his iced tea. "There, now drink. Please."

Exhaling, his hand tremors as he brings his cooled drink to his mouth. His dry lips make contact with the liquid, then suddenly his body is demanding for more. Drinking down the tea with just a few gulps, he rests his head once more against the brick wall. "Thank-you. That helped."

"Alright, lets get you back into bed." Keira takes the cup from his hand and places her hands in his. "Come on. I'll help you up."

With that notion, he laughs, actually laughs at her. For some reason, the little mage can't seem to place a memory in time where she actually remembers him laughing like this. A snicker here, a quick chuckle there, but this she decides is just...well weird. "Uhm...what's so funny?" She asks, curious, still holding onto his hands.

"S-sorry, my lady..." He clears his throat. "I mean no offense...it's...it's just well...you're quite small..." His _fingers_ now squeeze her tiny hands, and she suddenly apprehends just how much larger he is compared to herself. If he ever passed out, anywhere, there would be no way in Thedas that she would possibly be able to move him on her own. "And, as much as I hate to admit it...I'm in no shape to move at the moment, nor do I have the will power."

_He managed to say most of that with out any stuttering,_ she smiles at the little notion. "I'm sure we'll manage. Besides, the bed is right there." She gestures with her chin. "Now come on big fella." Coming to a half stand, Amell looks down at him, only to see him give her a stare of disbelief. "Come on." She taunts, shaking his arms gently. "Up you go." Instead of helping, he allows his arms to remain lax and his eye lids to close once more. "Oh know you don't. Staying down here will just make you worse. Now up!"

Keira heaves with all her might, but as hard as she tries, her efforts don't even budge the lazy templar. With one eye, Cullen hazily gazes at the silly mage before him. Puffing a stray strand of hair from her vision, she spots him peeking at her. He snorts out a light chuckle and then lets his eyes rest once more. Frustrated, she tries again. "Alright." As a child plays tug-a-war, Keira balances forward and back on her feet as she does her count down. "One, two, three...Eeeeh!"

She squeals like a frightened girl as she goes tumbling forward. The mean templar has not only stopped his arms from completely moving, but has decided that this is an opportune time to demonstrate how much strength he has and how little she possesses. With a loud _'Ouf'_ she lands face first into her patients naked chest. Cullen is now beyond himself with laughter. "I warned you, my lady..." He sputters. Now she's had it. No more Misses nice Mage.

"Listen, here Mister delirious templar." She tries to sound as menacing as possible while climbing off of the massive man. "You're going to get up, get in that bed and not argue with me about it. Do you hear me? I know next to nothing...sorry..." The mage excuses herself as she clambers aside and accidentally jabs Cullen in the ribs. "Serves you right." Quickly she stands and adjust her robes. "As I was saying. I know next to nothing about templar lyrium with-drawls. So we're going to have to deal with this the best we can. And you're not helping." Angered, but only slightly, the mage points an accusing finger at the man who's still sitting on the ground. "Now, please, ser, get the hell up."

Smiling lopsidedly, Cullen agrees. Placing a hand on the windowsill and another on the wall for support, he gradually brings himself to a full standstill. The blanket falls off and lands on the stone, he stares at it with hatred and no intent on bending to grab it. "Sorry...b-but if I pick it up...I-I don't think it will end well." Now at his full height, Keira is reminded of what it is he does for a living. Correction, what he _use_ to do for a living.

"I'm...sorry." The mage lowers her gaze, ashamed.

"What for? I needed to be yelled at." He snickers and walks past her, heading for the bed.

Casually, she picks up the blanket and then stares at it absentmindedly. "No...for all of this. If we...if I, wouldn't have helped that idiot...then you wouldn't be going through this..." Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, Amell continues looking at the fabric in her hands, running her fingers over all the little details in it.

"I-it's not your fault." The templar slowly settles back into the bed. "You were following orders." Placing an arm over his eyes, he lets out a long yawn.

"Still, now you're stuck here, going through this." Irritated with herself, she roughly tosses the bedding aside.

"No one forced me to tag along...if that's what you're thinking. I was approached by Duncan and I accepted." Cullen confirms.

Surprised, Keira stares at his motionless form. "Why?"

"Someone needs to keep an eye on you two." He says bluntly, and is now afraid that she might have taken that the wrong way. "I-I didn't mean it l-like that..." He tries to correct himself and begins pushing himself up with his elbows.

With a warm smile, she eases him back down, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. "Shhh...I know what you meant. And thank-you. Now sleep."

* * *

The morning light in the room is annoying, Keira shields her eyes with her hand and winces as she begins pushing aside her blanket. "Wait a minute..." _Blanket?_ Confused, her eyes search the room. Last thing she can remember is reading a book on healing medicines, while settled in a chair next to the bed. She must have fallen asleep at some point. But then, how did she end up in her bed? And where did that bloody templar go to?

Her eyes widen with concern. "Cullen."

Jumping from the warmth of the bedding, the mage pulls on her boots and scurries through the Castle's massive halls. Only stopping once to ask a guard if he had seen a Templar, the young man directs her to the training grounds. Keira can hear a man talking loudly, as if giving orders and then the clang of metal. Following the sounds, she trails her hand along the stone wall as she continues her march towards the noise. Again, the loud calm voice of a man and then the noise of metal. Rounding the next corner, the mage comes to an opening. The rays of the sunlight reflect off of the dust floating in the air near the entrance to what she assumes is the training area. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and nibbling at her lower lip, she peaks around the stone entrance. There she can see men all standing round in a giant circle.

Standing on her tiptoes, Amell tries to get a better idea of what the men are looking at. Then she hears it again, metal on metal and now the rustling of dirt. From the corner of her eye, she sees an opening between two men, she decides to make her way there to see what all the noise is about. Keira squeezes her tiny frame between the two men, who only glance down at her momentarily, she offers them a quick smile that quickly fades when her attention is brought to the two men in the circle.

The one man has his back to Keira, he's clad in splint mail and has wavy reddish hair. He's breathing deeply with his hands on his thighs. The other man is the Templar she's been searching for. However, he's not wearing the armor he'd just purchased days ago, to her utter disbelief he's clad in some of the traditional armor of a Templar Knight. The Helm and torso piece have been removed, the only thing that Cullen is actually still wearing is the lower half part of the uniform. And for a quick moment, Keira spots the bare feet of the Templar Knight settled in the dirt.

"What in Thedas..." Confused, Amell's brain tries to figure out what the hell is transcribing. The uniform, she thinks she understands, Bryce Cousland had probably already told his men that a Templar was going to be testing them to join the Grey Wardens. In order to intimidate his men, he must have had a set of armor put aside for this occasion. _Smart man this Cousland._ Keira finds herself liking the way this Bryce thinks. Not only is the armor a sign of the Chantry, which is in itself intimidating enough, but it's basically a right of passage. Only the most skilled men and women wear that uniform. Templars, the most highly trained warriors in Thedas. The ultimate fighter. They endure, they fight and most importantly, they never give up or surrender.

However, there's still the question on why? Why is Cullen not wearing his boots, gauntlets or for that matter at least a shirt? Mauling this over, Keira continues to examine the two men. _There has to be a reason...he's not going loony, he's not going loony..._ She takes a deep breath and decides not to interrupt the match.

"Sir Gilmore." Cullen says calmly. "Shall we continue or have you had enough?"

Waving in the templars general direction, Gilmore begins to straighten his posture. "Yeah, gimme one more minute Ser." Stretching out his back and reading his sword, he begins to charge.

Cullen remains passive, his sword and shield have been held at the ready this entire time. "In a real battle, you would not have a minute to rest, Sir." His stance never changes. Reading himself for the onslaught of forth coming heavy blows, Cullen raises his shield slightly. His feet turn and he positions his legs in a manner where he can steady himself, should the blows prove to be powerful.

Just as Sir Gilmore is about to bring his sword down onto the templar's shield, Bryce Cousland stands from his seat in a balcony. "Good show!" Halting all at once, Sir Gilmore lowers his sword, bows to his Templar opponent and then to Bryce.

Clapping, Bryce gestures for Gilmore to return to the side lines. "Very well done. I think that our Templar guest has seen enough from you men this morning. He should be able to make a decision with what he's seen here today. Please take this time to clean up and fill your stomachs with some food." With that said, Bryce disappears from Keira's site, she imagines that he returns to the comfort of his private quarters.

Her gaze returns to Cullen. No longer needed for training, he gives his sword a quick turn with his wrist and places it in it's sheath. Placing the base of the shield on the ground, he drags a lazy thumb along his brown, wincing. "Do you have a migraine?"

Startled, the templar looks up at her, his cheeks reddening with the realization of his current state. "Uh...yes. It's probably from the sun." A few of the soldiers pass by and Cullen acknowledges them with a quick nod.

"Or from being dehydrated...or...well..." She doesn't continue, fearing that some of the men within ear shot might hear her words.

"Oh...well yes, maybe." He clears his throat and hoists his shield onto his shoulder. "What brings you here?"

"You." She answers, looking at him rather dumb founded. The templar lowers his head. Finding that she sounded a bit harsh she tries to lighten the mood. "How are you feeling?" She asks sincerely and takes a step towards the man.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Cullen's eyes drift and begin to study the dirt on the ground. "F-fine. I guess. Just a headache. Nothing really to complain about."

"I see." She clasps her hands together. "Why are...well why..."

The templar lifts a brow in her direction, trying to understand what it is she's asking.

"Sorry...I mean, why are you not wearing the rest of your armor? Or your boots for that matter?" She stares at his feet, that are just peeking out from the fabric of his purple skirting.

Blushing even brighter then before, Cullen attempts a lopsided smile. "W-well most people are terrified of a Templar to begin with. When I entered the training grounds, the men were looking at me like I was going to turn into an abomination and eat them alive." Cullen snickers. "So I figured that if they could see that I was human as well as vulnerable that maybe they would attack me more openly. That way I would be able to judge them fairly."

Surprised with his judgement and intelligence, Keira smiles warmly. "Wise choice. However..." She stares at his feet.

Following her gaze Cullen lets out a low chuckle. "O-oh, that. The armor did not come with the correct size foot wear."

Amused, Keira shakes her head. "I see. Well we should get you washed up and fed. I'm sure Bryce will want you to make a decision soon." Seeing the templar begin to sway, Amell offers her assistance, which Cullen politely refuses and waves her off.

"I-I'm fine. Just tired. B-but you're right..." The templar adjusts the shield on his shoulder and makes his way to the back to pick up the rest of the Templar Knight armor. "I'll just be a few seconds."

"You there!" A loud male voice shouts.

Keira turns to see a soldier heading towards her. "Good morning Ser. Did you need my assistance..." Her words are cut short as the man continues her way.

"There's enough of your kind bothering men like him at those blasted towers! Don't you think you can piss off for once?" The man shoves the mage and she's sent crashing to the ground. "They chase you day and night. Only for you to be locked up and turn into some bloody monster. They should just do themselves a favor and rid the likes of you." Grabbing her by the wrist, the man pulls on her arm. "Come to think of it, I could do that Templar a gesture of gratitude right now and no one would so much as bat an eye at it..." The soldier pulls his free hand back, Keira knows he intends to back hand her, and she knows it will more then likely hurt, severely.

Anticipating the blow, Amell shuts her eyes firmly. The man begins to bring his hand down, only to have it clutched by the strong grip of an angered Templar. "What is it you think you are doing here, Ser?"

Frightened, the man releases his grip on the tiny mage. "But she's one of them! And you, you're sworn to..."

"You Ser, do not know the first thing about the Templar code of honor or conduct." Cullen's grip tightens. "We are sworn to protect. To protect all from the harms of magic. To protect mages, from themselves, from the lure of becoming abominations and most of all from the dangers of people like you." The man Cullen holds onto visibly begins to tremble. "Do not ever come near her again. She is my charge, if you so much as look at her during the time we are here...lets just say there are ways I can make sure no one will hear your screams as I relieve you of your limbs."

The soldiers eyes shrink in fear. "Do I make myself clear Ser?" Cullen releases the mans wrist, who then quickly bows and runs off. The former templar then makes his way to the little mage on the ground. Sniffling, Keira wipes at her eyes.

Sighing and trying to smile warmly, Cullen gently grips her shoulder. "Are you alright my lady?" Recoiling, she wipes at her eyes again. Kneeling, Cullen tries to study her face behind her hair. "I-I'm sorry...I didn't mean to frighten you." He waits patiently, still studying her body language. He can only see a few scrapes on her shoulder and hand, he assumes that the soldier only scared her and didn't really do any physical damage. "Come on lets get you out of here." The templar stands and offers her a hand, which she actually takes.

He helps her up and tries to see her expression behind her hair, but the locks continue to block her features. Pushing her hair back with his fingers, he lifts her chin with his thumb so that he can examen her face. "A-alright, no scrapes or blood." Her eyes leave the comfort of staring at the ground and gaze right into his own orbs. Clearing his throat, he can feel his cheeks burning. Taking a step back and releasing his hold on her, he gestures for her to lead the way through the exit.

"Am I that terrifying?" Amell asks. "Am I that horrifying?"

Assuming she meant her appearance, Cullen shakes his head. "No. You're actually quite beautiful." His gaze lowered, he awaits her furry. A Templar, commenting on the beauty of a mage. Absurd.

Instead, she only passes by him. "Thank-you."

* * *

"If those men couldn't even manage to so much as touch you, why is it then that your arms and body are full of bruises?" Amell continues her spells of ice and heat, trying to relax the Templars muscles and trying to rid him of some of the bruising. "You know, with that much of a work out, you risked spiking your fever again."

"O-oh...I didn't realize...Sorry." Studying his arms and upper chest, he sees the bruising she's inquiring about. "I usually bruise when I grip my shield to tightly. However, never anything like this and usually it's just my forearms or my hands."

"Could be because of the lack of lyrium in your system. Maybe it's doing more to you then what we originally thought." Amell spots a few big bruises on his ribs and lower abdomen and begins working on those.

"Well the sooner it's all out of my system the...Please don't..." He gently grasps her hands and quickly stands. Her hands are drifting to areas of his body which he is not comfortable with her touching. "I-I know that you are only helping...b-but..."

"I'm sorry. Personal space. I get it. Don't worry I'm not offended." She sees him nod quickly. "But we have to heal those, they are really big, for some strange reason. And considering our new line of work, you should always be fit to fight on a moments notice."

"I'm fine." He states. "It doesn't hurt."

"Not right now. But we don't know the cause...what if it's something internal. Thalia would know, but she's not here. So let me fix this for you, before it gets worse." Seeing that her words do nothing to budge the stubborn templar, she makes her way to him instead. Placing her hands on his chest, she begins to push him back gently.

"W-what are you doing?" Cullen demands, a bit frightened for some reason. His feet begin to move as he slowly walks backwards. The back of his knees make contact with a chair and he's forced to sit.

"Now, let me continue my work." The mage concentrates and begins her spell of heat and ice once more. Making her way to his left forearm, something catches her attention she hadn't noticed before. "What's this?" Her delicate finger traces the edges of the the black tattoo on his inner forearm.

"Oh...uhm that's a Tattoo. But I-I'm sure you know that..." Heaving a heavy sigh, he settles back into the chair. "All templars receive one once they've taken their... vows."

"I see." Keira pulls her hands away and takes a seat on the edge of her bed. Frustrated with the fact that she can't do much about the bruising. "I don't get it. It must have something to do with your fever and lyrium with-drawls. It's the only thing I can think of." She allows the weight of her body to sink into the bed as she sighs out loudly.

"It still doesn't hurt." The templar places a shirt over his head and smooths out the material. "I need to find Bryce and inform him of my decisions on the candidates."

Propping herself up on her elbows, she watches the templar place his belt over his hips and secure his weapon. "Alright, well maybe we will try again later?"

"Oh...uhm sure." Cullen shrugs his shoulders. "You should rest and eat as well." He washes quickly with some water from the basin, then he wipes his face dry and makes his way for the door.

"Will you wake me when you return? So that we can continue?" The mage begins settling into her bedding.

"W-what?" Cullen looks at her confused. "M-my lady, I will retire to my proper room tonight. T-thank you for all that you've done."

"That's what mages are for." She smiles, allowing her eyes to close. "Oh Cullen...?"

He peers back through the door opening. "Y-yes?"

"Who did you pick?" The mage nuzzles the covers up closer to her chin.

"Sir Gilmore and Katherine Cousland." Cullen shuts the door and makes his way to the main hall.

* * *

It had been hours since Cullen had spoken to Bryce about his two choices for possible recruits. However, this didn't go over well with the Teyrn. Bryce Cousland did not approve of his daughter even entering the competition to begin with. Also, the fact that her older brother was leaving with Bryce in the morning, didn't help matters either. They needed someone of Cousland blood to remain behind, just in case the unthinkable were to happen.

Now only left with the choice to leave with one recruit, Cullen breathes in the night air, staring at the stars, trying to figure out what it is he should do about this situation. As he begins to think of any alternative candidates, the templar's ears become aware of shouting and swords clashing together. The night sky is suddenly lit with the light of fires. Arrows of fire begin to rain down on the roofs and set the place ablaze.

Shocked, Cullen stares at the commotion taking place before him. "Maker..." Then one thought burns itself into his brain. "Find Amell."

An armored man jumps in front of him as he makes his way through the court and into the halls. Swinging with all his might, the man's sword cuts through the air and towards Cullen's throat. Side stepping the man easily, Cullen dodges the blade and runs the man through with his own weapon. Hearing the clatter of more foot steps quickly making their way towards him, he becomes aggravated. "I don't have time for this." He mutters.

The armed men round the corner spot Cullen removing their fallen comrade off of his sword. "Get that bastard!" The leader of the group shouts and they all charge for the lone soldier. The only advantage that Cullen has at the moment is the fact that they are in a tight winding stairwell. Using this to his advantage, he uses his bulk to take up most of the space. The first soldier grunts out as he charges head on and slams into Cullen's shield.

"Idiot." The templar mutters to the unconscious man. Shaking the muscles in his left arm, he adjusts his shield and awaits his next victim. This time a man with a long sword runs down the stairs and meets up with the templar at the half way point. "Come on then!" Cullen taunts and succeeds. The long sword warrior swings, attempting to cleave the Knight of his head, but fails. Seeing an opening, the templar ducks, kicks out a leg tripping the soldier and removes one of the mans legs with a quick slash of his short sword.

Cullen begins to tread up the stairs as arrows wiz past him, the ones that don't miss, he blocks with his shield and they make a distinct 'ticking' noise as they hit the metal he's holding up. Using force, he barrels onwards using his weight for momentum. Reaching the top of the stairs, he bashes the two men to the ground. They topple over each other in a mess of legs and arms. One tries to remove his helmet that has now fallen over his eyes and is preventing him from seeing. The other, Cullen assumes the leader of this band of men, tries to scurry out from the other soldier. Deciding quickly to deal with the visually impaired man, Cullen knocks the man unconscious with his shield. Seeing the other man flee, the templar allows for a few feet of distance before he removes a knife from his belt and sends it flying at the escaping man. Not missing it's target, the knife plunges into the base of the man's neck.

Hearing shouting coming from a few rooms down, Cullen readies himself for another confrontation. Then he feels it, the familiar feeling of the veil tearing, of magic in the air, of electricity building up around him. Not a moment later, a flash and a clap of thunder and two men are sent hurtling through a door and across the hall, slamming into the stone wall, their bodies fall to the floor like unwanted dolls.

To his surprise, Cullen finds himself staring at Keira. "That should teach you, never scare a mage when she's sleeping!" She shouts and kicks one of the men in the leg as she passes them by and heads toward the former templar. "Alright, that was a very rude awakening. I have all my things, what about you?"

Shaking out of his reveries, Cullen clears his throat. "J-just missing my Helm, but that's alright, never really liked wearing those things to begin with."

Nodding, Keira looks back down the hall behind her. "I think there's a way to get out of here down through the kitchens. I remember overhearing someone a few days back talking about the servants passage way."

"Alright, lets head there." Cullen stops in his tracks when he notices that the mage is not moving. "M-my lady, we must keep moving."

"I know, but we should help." Keira's eyes meet his own. "But I know we can't really do anything. It's not the place of Grey Wardens to interfere." Saddened, the mage continues to follow her templar guardian.

* * *

It's been four days since the siege on the Cousland Castle, but still Katherine Cousland has refused to speak to anyone. Thalia has tried on countless occasions to try and start a conversation with the young woman, but to no avail. Katherine would only continue to stare at the ground as she mindlessly followed behind the group.

Settling down to make camp just before sundown, Surana approaches Duncan. Careful to make sure that no one can hear her but their commander, she speaks in a low tone. "Is there nothing we can do for Lady Cousland?"

Sighing and shaking his head, Duncan allows his shoulders to drop, but only slightly. "Unfortunately, the only thing she needs at this moment is time. However, I fear that the only other thing might be revenge. Lets hope it doesn't come to that."

Gazing back at the poor woman now sitting by the fire, Thalia notices how empty Lady Cousland looks. "We should have done something." A comment she blurts out without thinking.

"I understand where you are coming from, however, as Grey Wardens, our only concern at the moment is the blight." He sees the mage turn to face him and listen to his words. "If we would have remained, there's a chance we could have all perished. The Grey Wardens needs recruits, the blight is a much greater threat then the wars of men. The darkspawn threaten to take the lands and lives of all in Thedas, not just a few."

Knowing he's right, again, Thalia lets out a heavy breath that feels like she's been holding since they left Highever. "I understand."

"You can however, try to make sure that Lady Cousland does try to eat something this evening. Keeping the only last known heir of the Cousland family alive is an important task." Duncan feels that maybe is he tasks Surana with watching over Katherine's health for the time being, that maybe she will feel like she helped somehow.

Agreeing, the little elf mage makes her way over to the fire and sits next to the young woman. "How about we get you cleaned up and fed." She ushers softly.

* * *

For once, Keira doesn't attend the fire or the food, this time she sits against the comfort of a large oak. She scribbles down everything that has happened in the past five days in her journal. With that task complete she begins drawing the scenes in front of her and makes notes beside them. The first is a drawing of Thalia and Cousland sitting side by side. The elf pokes at the fire with a stick while trying to strike up a conversation with her quiet companion. Katherine only continues to study the flames while her hound remains by her side. Amell makes a small note beside the picture that says _"I feel for this woman...she now has the burden of carrying around the ghosts of her family and past."_

The next sketch is that of their two new companions, two elves, a male and a female sitting on a log next to a tent playing some sort of card game. The young male elf named Ty has short black hair and a dark complexion. Apparently, he's a skilled double sword wielder and if the occasion calls for it, he's pretty handy with a bow. Duncan and Thalia found him in Denerim. His bride murdered and his cousin raped by noble men, Ty took it upon himself to avenge his family and his people. The notes beside him read _"Tragic Tale"_ and _"Mother trained him in the arts of combat."_

Renn, the female elf, has blonde hair that she keeps long and braided. She has an intricate pale brown tribal tattoo that stretches across her forehead and down the lengths of her cheeks. Duncan had informed them that she's very proficient with both a bow or a set of throwing knives. For some reason, that Surana hasn't explained yet, her and Duncan had made their way to the Dalish after finding Ty. There they met with the elder, whom Keira can't recall her name at the moment, and were offered a proposition. To take Renn along to see if the Grey Wardens could cure her of a curse some ancient mirror had cast upon her. In exchange, the Wardens would be able to recruit Renn as one of their own. The notes beside the elf woman read _"A gift from the elder."_ and _"Cursed by a mirror?"_

The next two drawings are of Cullen and Duncan. The commander stands with his back toward the viewer, watching the sunset. His arms are crossed and his broad shoulders show signs of light beimg reflected off of them as the sun begins to fade. Under this scene Keira jots down _"Commander of the Grey"_ and _"I know there's something he's not telling us."_

Cullen's sketch shows him polishing his sword, deep in thought. _"Lyrium free." "Chantry controlled."_ and _"Flaming Sword of Andraste tattoo."_ is all that's written beside and around the drawing.

Packing up her journal and writing supplies, the mage pauses and gazes up at the slowly brightening stars. Mentally, she notes to herself that this will be the last calm quiet night they have for a very long time. For tomorrow, they reach Ostagar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you did catch it, yes, Cullen speaking about his helm was a nod off to the game and the fact that he's never wearing one. And so the multiple Origins continues...Ostagar here we come!


	4. Chapter Four : Distance with Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter has scenes of violence and violence against women. I'm not saying violence against women is alright, very much the opposite. Some of you may find my version of 'The Warden' weak, but remember it's the trials through life that make us stronger. 
> 
> Disclaimer : Owned by me, Keira and Thalia and Renn and Kate and Ty. That's it.

**Chapter Four : Distance with Time**

The ruins of Ostagar, massive and ancient. However, for the time being it will serve as a camp ground for the King's men and that of the Grey Wardens. Duncan had warned the small group just before they had entered the ancient fortress. "The Kings forces have clashed with the darkspawn several times here. Although there are only a few Grey Wardens in Ferelden at this time, all of us are here." Crossing his arms behind his back, he had regarded his recruits seriously. "The bulk of the hoard will strike here, this blight must be stopped. If it spreads to the north...Ferelden will fall."

After meeting up with King Cailan and some of his men, Duncan had sent Thalia and Katherine to retrieve another Grey Warden named Alistair. Keira and Renn were tasked with searching for some men named Daveth and Ser Jory. Cullen went with Ty to help set up more tents for the new recruits and their Commander.

"That Daveth...is..." Renn tries to choose her words carefully, it's the first time she's been around so many shem. Deciding that she actually likes this Mage Amell, the young dalish elf is trying her best as to not offend.

"A disgusting toad?" Keira laughs as they continue walking through the encampment looking for supplies. "You know, it's alright if you feel off about someone. You can voice your opinion...well at least around me." Winking in the elf's direction, Keira chuckles softly. "I wouldn't recommend telling people things like that to their face though."

Blushing a light shade of embarrassment, Renn continues to follow her new friend through the crowds. "Do you think that Lady Cousland will recognize Ser Jory? If she does, do you think that will be something to ease her pain, or only something to remind her of all that she's lost?"

"You know what?" The mage grips her staff tighter and continues walking. "I was just wondering the same thing actually."

* * *

The sun is setting, something Keira and Thalia still love watching together. Settled by the fire, Surana lies comfortably with her head in Keira's lap. The older mage continues to finger comb the elven girl's hair as she reads through books on practical healing and herbs.

"How long are you going to read those books Wynne gave you?" Thalia questions without looking up for a response, a response she doesn't receive. "And what was that old bitty doing here anyways? Isn't she kind of ancient to be out here fighting darkspawn and whatever else?"

Not letting her eyes drift from the pages of her book, Amell continues playing with her friends hair. "She's not an old bitty. She's just...well old. And I'm sure she's here as a healer, and not as a fighter."

"Yeah I guess." Surana begins playing with a twig she had picked up off the ground earlier. "And all those Templars...just saying the word, Templar...sends shivers up my spine. It's so weird going weeks without them, only to have them a few tents down."

"What do you mean? Cullen has been with us this entire time...and now there's that other guy, Alistair." Keira begins to stretch and her elf friend sits up, still playing with the little branch.

"Well, sure. But...Cullen isn't like the other Templars. And this new guy, well I don't think he's very Templar-y at all." Tossing her twig into the fire, she watches as the other woman tries to yawn and laugh all at once.

"Thalia, I think you're worrying for nothing." Wrapping a shall around her shoulders, Keira places the now finished book into her back pack and heads to the fire. "I'm making myself a tea and then I'm continuing to read the rest of those books Wynne gave me. So you should find something to occupy your time, Duncan says we have the night off, but he has plans for us tomorrow."

"You know we're not at the Tower anymore, don't you?" Surana allows a smile to creep across her face.

"Yes. Doesn't mean I have to stop reading or learning new things." Resting her tea on unread books, the mage pulls out a new volume and begins her studies.

"What's this..." Thalia studies the cover. "Healing Medicines found in the Wild...oh yeah, that's my cue for bed." Rising to her feat, the elf shakes her head at her friend. "You know, you're quite boring."

"Do tell..." Rolling her eyes, Amell turns the page and reads on. "You know Thalia..." She eyes her friend over the top of her book. "As a healer, you think you would want to...oh I don't know...learn more about healing."

Surana shrugs her shoulders. "I've been learning this stuff since I could say my own name. I think I deserve a break. And so do you." The elven mage heads for one of the large tents and disappears behind it's fabric doors.

"Yeah, but unlike you, I know almost next to nothing about herbs and medicines..." Keira mutters just under her breath and sighs.

* * *

Leaning against a tree, Cullen's brown eyes follow Thalia's form as she heads in for the night. Surveying the area, the Templar spots a few watch towers armed with guards, a few of the Kings men walking a perimeter around the ruins and a couple dozen groups still all crowded around their enormous crackling fires. _Besides, all our tents are right here, they are safe._ He reassures himself. For the first time since they've left their home, he thinks maybe he'll be able to sleep soundlessly.

"You watch them an awful lot." Alistair's voice comes in at a low tone behind Cullen, who doesn't turn around to acknowledge him.

"They are my responsibility. It's my duty to make sure they are safe." Cullen shifts his weight against the tree.

"Right, and being a Templar Knight has nothing to do with it. I'm sure that's all just a coincidence then. You know they are going to be Grey Wardens soon, so that means you don't..."

Annoyed, Cullen exhales loudly. "I...I made a promise to an old man. To watch them...to keep them safe." He turns around to face this other man who only stands just a few inches shorter. "I intend to do just that."

"Right. Well hopefully I misjudged you and this awkward moment can be forgotten." Offering his hand as a sign of trust and peace, Alistair attempts a charming smile. "Alistair. Grey Warden and your guide for tomorrows events."

Staring at the hand offered, Cullen drags his tongue over his teeth behind closed lips. Shaking his head in a 'what do I have to lose' manner, Cullen uncrosses his arms and shakes the younger man's hand. "Cullen, ex-templar of Kinloch Hold. Warden in training."

"She'll be fine." Alistair motions with his chin to the dark haired mage, still sitting at the fire. "The place is surrounded."

Glancing over his shoulder, Cullen's lip forms a thin line. "I guess."

"She'll probably be exhausted in the morning, but other then that, unharmed." Offering an encouraging grin, Alistair heads for the men's tent. "Sleep. As someone who will be going on an excursion tomorrow, I think you will need all the rest you can come by."

* * *

_It must be at least three hours since the sun has set._ Keira rubs at her eyes, poors herself another hot beverage and then begins her second book. "Alright, so what do we have here?" She turns the book and eyes the cover. "Lyrium. Wow, probably could have used you a few days back. Where were you when I needed you then?" The mage takes a sip of her tea and places it down on the ground beside her sitting log. Picking up her journal, she begins to write down any important notes that she finds might be of some future assistance.

A branch snaps in the distance to her right. "Hello?" Her eyes try to focus on the darkened area, but she can't make out anything lingering there. "Oh well..." _Must be a rat or that hound or something._ "Where was I?" A delicate finger skims over the words on the page and she realizes she has already read this part.

"Shhh..." She can hear someone hiding in the darkness. Leaves are crumbling, twigs are cracking under many foot steps.

"Hello? Are you lost? Or do you need help with anything. I'm not busy, I can..." Keira deposits her books, and tries to see if there is anyone in that corner. Then she glances over to the woman's tent. "Thalia? Is that you?" She hugs her shall closer and slowly makes her way to the area where the noises are coming from.

"Sorry dear lady." Suddenly, four men make their way towards the camp fire. "We didn't mean to frighten you. Just a few soldiers with some down time...drinking...lost our way back..." The tall man takes a sloppy drink of his ale. "To our own fire and company...is all."

"Oh...well..." Not quite sure what to say, but relieved that she finally knows who was in the dark, Keira feels her body relax. Adjusting her shall, she attempts a small smile.

The rounder man makes a silly attempt at a bow and offers Keira a swig of his mug, which she declines. "Well, lass...would it be alright if a few men joined ye around yer lovely fire." He places his hands above his head admiring the flames before him.

Glancing at the tents, Amell figures that everyone is probably sleeping fairly deeply. "Well as long as you promise to be cautious on the noise making, I don't see why not."

Bowing once more, the rounder man places his index finger and hushes. "Quiet as mices-ses."

Giggling, Keira gets back to reading her tome once more. The tall man notices her studying and takes a seat beside her. Trying to ignore his staring, she continues with her task.

"What you reading?" The man winces his eyes trying to see the words. "Looks like gibberish...wait a minute..." The man's eyes widen when he realizes what she's reading. "She's a witch!" The man takes a swig of his beer, tosses the mug into the fire and wipes his mouth with his sleeve.

"What you say Turner?" The rest of the men quit their chattering and circle around the sitting mage.

Pointing down at the frightened woman, the tall man, Turner, smiles. "Yeah...this bitch is a witch..." He hiccups.

"Hey that rhymes!" The round man laughs, takes a drink and slaps Turner on the back.

"What you recon we should do with this freak?" The other man questions.

Turner grabs Amell by the shoulders and forces her to stand. Clutching her book to her chest, she swallows down her anxiety. Turner sees her eying the tents behind him. "Ah ah ah..." He presses a small dagger to her lips. "Shush now...wouldn't want to cause a sc-scene, now would we honey?"

The tall man's grip not loosening on her arm, he begins to walk and forces her to back into a tree. He slaps the book from her hands, causing the parchments to scatter all over the ground. Then he grasps her by the throat, dragging the blade along the side of her face, he chews at his tongue as it hangs from his mouth. A dog with a bone, she thinks.

"I can't believe King Cailan is letting this thing walk amongst us... unguarded." The round man finishes his drink and tosses the goblet aside. "Looks like it's up to us to deal with it."

"No one said we couldn't have any fun...first." Turner glances down the length of the mage in his grip, then back up to her face. "You sure are pretty for an abomination." Moistening his lips with his tongue, Turner decides that before he guts his prey, that he could get some use out of it first. "Long lonely nights have passed by for us..." He drags his tongue the length of her neck up to her ear.

Keira whimpers and begins to struggle, she's been here before. The grip around her throat tightens. Memories of the Tower dungeon cause her heart to beat faster. Panic and familiarity is settling in. Her hands turn cold as she instinctively begins to conjure a defensive spell.

"And what are ye going to do little mage?" The round man asks. "Use yer magics on us?"

Laughing, Turner begins to lift the tiny mage from the ground with one hand. "Oh I don't think so...One spell, even a hint of it will send those Templars on high alert."

The mage grabs and tugs at the arm holding her up. The air in her lungs beginning to drain, she can hardly keep her eyes open. Then, without warning, her small frame is smashed into the trunk of the tree, knocking the rest of the air out of her. Turner's grip loosens on her and she takes in a few quick breaths of air.

"This is how it's going to work." Turner's blade is just under her chin and she can feel his fingers close in on her throat once more. His body presses up against hers and then suddenly, the men and the air around them grow quiet.

"Drop it." She knows this voice. The mage can see Turner's eyes slowly follow the length of a sword now at his neck.

"Hey...hey...no harm done here..." Turner's adam's apple bobs as he tries to swallow against the steel of the blade pressed against his skin.

"I will not tell you again." The blade twists slightly against Turner's skin and draws a droplet of blood. "Drop the blade, let go of the girl. Now!"

Turner drops the blade but doesn't release the mage. With no choice but to use force, Cullen grabs the other man by the arm, twists it back and Keira is set free. Falling to the ground, Keira gasps and takes in deep breaths while clutching her chest with one hand and the grass beneath her with the other. Cullen has the drunken man pushed up against the tree with his forearm, while the point of his blade is pressing against the man's larynx.

Allowing himself a moment, Cullen glances down at Keira to make sure she's not injured. Seeing her crouched figure gasping for air enrages the Templar. In this moment he decides to demonstrate his strength by lifting the man clear off the ground with only one arm and slams him roughly against the trunk of the tree.

Being bold, Turner laughs. "What are you going to do Warden? Kill me?"

Again, Cullen slams the man against the wood. "I should."

"For what? Playing with your friend here. We were only having a good time. She's just a mage, no one would of cared if we helped ourselves..." Turner coughs as Cullen tightens his grip.

"She's not just a mage. She's a Grey Warden. And a woman! You piece of shit!" Feeling his anger building, the Templar presses his blade even harder into Turner's throat. "What's to stop me from killing you? Have you thought of that? Not only are we Grey Wardens, with laws that don't follow those of the common world...but she is one of my charges...and under my protection!"

The man's eyes widen as he begins to understand the problem he's created for himself. Seeing the realization settle in Turner's eyes, Cullen's face becomes menacing. "That's right...Templar. I have authorization to do what I must to protect those under my watch. There's nothing more powerful then the laws of the Chantry. Care to wager on how much you will be missed?"

Cullen begins to turn his wrist, ready to end this miserable man's life. Seeing this, Keira places a hand on the Templar's elbow. The Knight looks over his shoulder and locks eyes with the mage staring at him. He glances back at the man up against the tree, then back to Amell who is slowly shaking her head.

"No." Is all she whispers.

Cullen adds more pressure behind his blade. "After what he was about to do...you would have me set him free..." The Templar is sweating.

"Cullen...please...don't..." He can feel her tiny hand squeeze his arm, begging him to stop.

Exhaling, Cullen slowly places the man back down on his feet. Smiling Turner pats himself down then looks to the former Templar, who catches the man off guard and hits him with a solid right hook. "Count yourself fortunate, Sir...that I do not wish to shed your blood in the presence of this woman. If I were you...I would make myself scarce. If I so much as see you look in her direction...I will feed your man hood to the mabari and force you to watch."

Turner along with his men flee into the darkness off to the far side of the Grey Warden tents.

Alistair, must of followed Cullen and controlled the rest of the men, Keira concludes, because he's now watching the darkness, making sure no one returns. Keira then spots out of the corner of her eye, Thalia who's staring at her from their tent, covering her mouth in horror.

_I got to be strong, she can't see me like this. She must of heard something and alarmed Cullen. Thank the Maker. Focus Keira, pic up your books, do something. She can't see me like this._

On hand and knee, Keira begins the chore of putting all of her fallen notes in some sort of order. She feels Cullen's presence behind her and the flames of the fire cascade his shadow over her kneeling form. "I-I... need to find all of my work..." She sniffles. "It-it was a-all right here..."

Cullen sheathes his weapon and bites at his lower lip. He kneels down beside the shaking mage and begins helping her gather her books and paper. Amell's form begins to shake uncontrollably and she covers her face with her hands, attempting to hide her sobs. At a lost at what to do, the former Templar pulls the mage to him, embracing her with comforting warmth. Keira ducks her head under his jaw and continues to sob.

Wide eyed, Alistair decides to turn his back and shelter the duo with his frame as much as possible, trying to allow for some sort of privacy for the weeping woman. He vows to stand guard as long as needed in order to provide Amell with some dignity. Hearing the low whimpering of the woman tucked within safe arms behind him, Alistair can feel the blistering hate for those men grow with each second that passes.

"He should have run him through." He whispers to himself. Turning his attention to the woman's tent he notices Thalia, Renn and Katherine standing outside. Tears roll down the delicate cheeks of the elves. Thalia continues to cover her mouth, horrified. Katherine has a hand on the elven mage's shoulder, a gesture of comfort. Then, Alistair's and Katherine's eyes lock and he knows what she's thinking. He lowers his gaze to the ground, knowing it's not something they can take into their own hands.

Alistair can hear heavy footsteps behind him and turns just in time to see Cullen brush past him, carrying the little mage to her tent. Spent of her energy, Keira's arms are laced around the Templar's neck and her head is still tucked under his jaw, hoping to hide her grief-stricken face. However, there's no mistaking the reddened lines around her throat. Alistair feels that boiling sensation in his chest against. Internally a growl forms in him and he pushes it back down with a hard swallow.

He sees the Templar disappear into the tent. Glancing down at his knuckles, he notices how bloody they are. Grimacing, he massages them with his thumb. A piece of skin peals back on his index knuckle. "Must of hit them harder then I thought." He smirks, thinking of how shocked the round man looked when he had popped him square in the mouth. "Serves them right." Alistair continues to thumb his battered knuckles and mentally notes that next time he would wear his gauntlets. He can't help but wonder why fighting darkspawn doesn't quite affect him as much as a woman being harmed does. A growl forms in his throat.

"Let me take a look at that." Surana pulls at his bloodied hand to get a better look. "I have just the thing." She pulls a poultice and some bandages from her pouch and tends to his wounds.

Lowering his head, Alistair finds it hard to look the young elven mage in the eyes. "I'm sorry about your friend."

Thalia tilts her head and then continues her work. "Thank-you...but it wasn't your fault."

Alistair sighs. "I told him...that she would be safe here...nothing to worry about..." He clears his throat and gently pulls his hand away when the elf finishes bandaging his wounds. "If I wouldn't have said anything...he would have stayed and kept watch over her..."

"It's not your fault, Alistair. This _is_ a safe place. Sometimes, there's just some things we can't control." Surana feels another stray tear roll down her cheek and she uses her palm to wipe it away. "Keira...has always been beautiful...most girls would call her lucky, blessed even. But I know it for what it truly is...a curse. I caught her once, staring in a mirror with a dagger, hot from the fire. I knew what she was going to...had I and Ser Cullen not shown up..." Saddened by the memory, her voice begins to shake. "Her beauty has always... _always_ been an invitation for unwanted advances, affections and sometimes worse..."

"I see..." Alistair finds his heart sinking with the thought of what these two women have had to endure.

* * *

The Templar places the broken mage on her cot, pulls up a blanket and slowly turns to leave. "Please stay."

Rolling his shoulders he stops in his tracks. "My lady...that would be... inappropriate." He looks over his shoulder and feels ashamed. Ashamed that this is the third time he has failed her.

"Please. Just like as if we are back at the tower." Her voice is uneasy, she knows she's asking a lot, but for the first time in her life, she's actually terrified. She's been scared before, frightened even, but terrified. This is uncharted territory, and she's not liking it one bit.

Sighing, he caves. "You're...you're not suppose to tell anyone about that." He blushes while pulling out a chair to sit by her bedside.

"I haven't." She answers truthfully.

His muscles now aching, he bends forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees as he rubs the back of his neck with both of his hands. Cullen yawns, and continues to stare at his feet.

"You're tired... You're right. You should go. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow...and...and well I have the rest of the girls here. I'm being childish." Keira turns to lie on her side.

Cullen looks at the woman before him confused. "Childish? You think you're being childish?" He scoffs while rubbing his hands together. "This is not the first time a man tries to rape you, or the first time a man harms you...and you think you're being childish?" Cullen shakes his head. "Please, my lady...I'm...I'm not going anywhere, now please...try to rest." Slouching back in his chair, the Templar folds his hands over his abdomen.

"You have poor posture." Keira notes blankly while idly thumbing her covers.

"Really? Interesting..." Cullen rolls his eyes. Knowing that she'll probably only continue to be a chatter box, Cullen begins their staring game. A game he knows, will make her fall asleep.

"When did we start this?" The mage asks, actually trying to recall the first memory of this weird sleepy-time game.

"Amell..." Cullen tries to urge her to rest.

"No...really...when did we figure out that you staring at me would make me sleep?"

Clasping his hands behind his head, Cullen tries to recall the memory. "Uh...I think it's when you were much younger...I had just started my duties as a Templar Knight. You use to pester me all the time...trying to sneak out of your dormitories..." Cullen smirks at the memory. "I...I remember telling you about a game...whoever could stare the longest without blinking, won."

"Being a Templar, you would always win." Keira snuggles under her blanket and notices how heavy her eyes feel.

"Keep your eye on the mages..." Cullen's smile fades. He looks over to Keira's quiet form, to see her sleeping. Tapping his knees with his thumbs, he rises from his chair and leaves the tent. Content that she's actually safe, Cullen heads back to his bed, hoping to get a few hours rest.

* * *

Duncan thumbs his chin as Alistair informs him of this mornings events. "This is unfortunate, however you know there's nothing we can do at this time. Even if we were to bring this to the King's attention...we have greater things to attend to. However, should the young man survive the battle..." Duncan turns his attention from the fire back to the Warden at his side.

"Yes, Duncan. I understand. It's just...all because she's a mage?" Shaking his head, Alistair drags his thumb over his still bandaged hand. "I don't get it. He should have killed him..."

"You know as well as I do that mages are looked upon differently, as are elves and dwarves. You will find that mages will be the least accepted." Clearing his throat Duncan returns his gaze back over the camp grounds. "Ser Cullen did the right thing. Had he killed that man, he would be facing a trial today...and that would not look well for the Grey Wardens. Amell knew this."

Nodding with a blank expression, Alistair agrees. "Right...guess it's time for me to rally the troops then."

* * *

With a disgusted look across his face, Ty extracts another vile of blood from a Hurlock. "How many of these did we need again?" The elf wipes off the grime and sweat from his forehead and begins pillaging the darkspawn's corpse.

"We need three each. Andraste, Ty...how many times do we have to tell you?" Kate, as they now refer to young lady Cousland as, is counting all the blood samples in her pouch. "We have more then enough. We really should begin looking for those treaties."

"Or maybe we should head back for the night. It is starting to get dark out." Ser Jory continues to grip his sword tightly. Like a child with a candle in the dark, he stares out into the distance. Alistair watches the man from a distance and he knows. _He's afraid, terrified...he won't make it._

"Surely you're not afraid of the dark." Daveth teases while pocketing some loot he found on a Genlock. "And is it just me...or is it a bit odd that these darkspawn are lugging around a bunch of silver and gold pieces...?"

"It's not the dark that worries me." Jorry continues to stare over the trees and hills. "There's talk of chasind folk in these parts..."

"Are you going to go on about the witch of the wilds again...?" Daveth rolls his eyes.

"Right...well lets get on with it then. Time to move out." Cullen sheathes his sword and begins to head in a section that they haven't yet explored, the rest of the recruits follow.

Jory follows the group shaking his head. "He's use to this...part of his job use to be looking for apostates..."

"I swear, for a big fellah, you're awfully whiny." Kate waits for her comrade to catch up. "Are you sure that you're from Highever?"

* * *

Pushing some stones aside, Renn wiggles her nose and sneezes as the dust floats by. "I think I found something." Poking at the empty and broken chest with her foot, she sneezes again. "But whatever it was...it's long gone."

"Well, well...what have we here?" A woman in leather skirting and a very revealing top slowly descends the stairs down into the main area of the ruins. The black feathers on her left shoulder bob up and down as she gently pads past the group. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?"

The dark haired woman makes her way past Thalia. "Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" Her gold eyes scan the men and women before her. "What say you? Scavenger or intruder?"

Keira sighs, tired of these games. "We are neither. The Grey Wardens once owned this tower."

The woman scoffs. "T'is a tower no longer." Her eyes graze over the broken stones and busted columns. "The wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." Annoyed, she shakes her head. "I've watched your progress for some time. Where do they go, I wondered, why are they here?" Crossing her arms, she regards Amell. "And now, you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?"

Alistair places himself beside Amell and grips gently on her shoulder. "Don't answer her, she looks Chasind, and that means other may be nearby."

Amused, the woman places her hands in the air. "Oooh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

Not seeing the humor in this, Alistair raises a brow. "Yes...swooping is bad."

"She's a witch of the wilds. Just as I told you...I knew we should have headed back..." Jory begins to back up cautiously.

Sighing, the woman turns her attention back to Keira. "You there, woman do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Cullen pulls Amell aside, as the rest of the group follows The Witch of the Wilds, Morrigan, to her mothers home. His eyes never leave the female apostate. "This... could be a trap."

"What choice do we have?" Keira rests against her staff.

Cullen lets out a deep breath. "You forget what it is I...I use to do for a living...my lady."

"We're all tired, it's dark, and we still don't have the treaties." Taking a drink from her water skin, she takes a minute to herself. "We have no more options."

"I suppose..." The Templar shakes his head and runs a tired thumb over his brow. "Well, we'll just have to...to be on the look out. I see even a sign of...of anything a miss...I'll Smite them...you know I will."

Nodding, Keira puts her water skin aside and they both continue with the journey.

* * *

"I don't like this...it's too...secret-y." Thalia grips at her friends hand and arm. "There's something they are not telling us." She stares pass the group and over towards Alistair and Duncan.

"Of coarse there's something they're not telling us...other wise it wouldn't be a secret." A failed attempt on Keira's part of trying to keep the mood light. Looking into the younger mage's eyes she can see the anxiety there. Placing a hand on her friends shoulder she smiles. "It'll be fine. We don't have any other options. We can't go back to the tower. _This_... is where we belong."

Nodding, Surana takes a deep breath and waits. Keira gazes over her shoulder to Cullen. The Templar is resting against the ruins, his arms crossed, awaiting orders. Hearing Jory and Daveth arguing once more, the mage's attention returns to the front of the group.

"Would you two just shut up already?" Kate is obviously frustrated. "You two whine more then a couple of school girls...honestly."

Duncan makes his way over to his recruits. "At last, we come to the joining. The Grey Wardens were founded during the first blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was, that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint." His eyes, dark and full of dread scan the faces before him.

"We're...we're going to drink the blood...of those creatures?" Jory's skin takes on an even lighter color as he pales further.

Duncan takes a few steps closer to the tall paling man. "As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory."

Alistair takes his place beside their Commander. "Those who survive the joining will become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the Archedemon."

"So how does this work?" Keira is curious, she knows that lyrium must be involved somehow.

Duncan crosses his arms. "We speak only a few words prior to the joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would."

Lowering his head, Alistair shuts his eyes. "Join us brothers and sisters."

Keira and Thalia share a look between them, dread spreading like wild fire.

"Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant."

Cullen straightens his posture, wanting to face this and have it done with.

"Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn."

Terrified, Jory's eyes search their faces, not wanting to believe that they accept this fate.

"And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

Jory locks eyes with Kate. The last known surviving Cousland, ready to sacrifice her life.

"And that one day we shall join you."

Duncan raises the Chalice from the pedestal and carries it over to the first in line. "Daveth step forward." He hands the rogue the blood filled cup, who takes a generous drink.

Breathing deeply, he begins to feel dizzy. Toppling over, his breaths become ragged. Eyes haze over and turn grey, dull and lost of life. His hands give out from under him as his last breath is pushed from his lungs.

Duncan bows his head. "I am sorry Daveth." He turns his attention to the next in line. "Step forward Jory."

The pale man begins to back away. "But I have a wife...a child..." Readying his sword, he continues to back peddle. "Had I known..."

"There is no turning back." Dunan places the Chalice back on to it's resting place.

"No...I'm sorry, but you ask too much." Jory's back contacts a column. "There is no glory in this..." Shaking, he takes on a defensive stance.

Duncan removes a dagger from his belt. Sir Jory swings, but the Grey Warden easily dodges the blow and manages to plant his blade deep within Jory's chest. "I am sorry..." Duncan steps back and wipes the blood from his face with his forearm. "But the joining is not yet complete."

The Commander returns to the pedestal and then hands the Chalice to Ty. "You are called upon to summit yourself to the taint, for the grater good."

The young elf puffs out his chest, grasps the drink and takes a mouth full. He takes a few breaths and only feels a bit faint. Passing out, he lands with a solid thump to the ground.

"From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden." Duncan looks then to Renn. "Renn, of the Dalish, please step forward." The young girl heads to the older man.

"Keira..." Thalia whispers. "I don't know if I can do this..."

"Shhh...you can...I promise." Amell squeezes the other mage's hand.

Taking her turn, the Dalish girl hands the Chalice back. Gripping at her throat, she falls to the ground. "NO!" Thalia screams. "Renn!" Tears stream down her face.

"I am sorry Renn." Duncan bows his head. "Thalia Surana, please step forward." His eyes land on her face.

The elf turns to her friend. "I love you."

"I love you too Thalia." Keira lets the grip on her friends hand loosen and she can feel the tiny fingers leave her grasp. Trying to remain strong, she inhales deeply and encourages the younger woman to continue.

Surana makes her way towards Duncan with her eyes lowered. "It is nearly over." The rough voice reassures.

Sighing, she takes the goblet. She stares into the black liquid as it swishes around. "Here we go." Closing her eyes she takes a drink. The warm liquid makes it's way down her throat. Already, she can feel the throbbing in her heart, the pulse quickening in her veins. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and she faints.

"From this moment forth, Thalia, you are a Grey Warden."

Letting out a breath of relief, Amell is almost ready to applaud with joy, until she realizes that there are only three of them left.

"I'll go first." A gentle squeeze on her shoulder, then Kate walks past her. "Hand me that piss." She takes a long drink, staggers backwards, shakes her head and coughs. Katherine falls to her knees and then passes out.

"Welcome, Katherine Cousland, you are now a Grey Warden." Duncan's eyes search and find Keira. He doesn't say anything, just waits for her to come forward.

Turning to look at Cullen, Keira stares at him for a moment. Slowly he nods, signaling her to go on. "Right then." She makes her way pass all of her fallen friends and finally reaches Duncan. "Alright, I'm ready." He hands her the cup. Amell decides not to look into it, not to smell it, just to down some of it's continents.

She presses a hand to her forehead, she can hear her heart beating in her ears. Warmth then turns to boiling heat and begins to spread through her body. As she begins to fall back she hears Duncan speak. "Welcome, Keira Amell, you are now a sister of the Grey Wardens." Then darkness.

"I guess that leaves you." Alistair looks over to Cullen.

"I guess that does." The two mages have passed, both have survived. So far, he's kept his promise, if he dies now, it won't matter. But he knows Andraste all too well, he can feel it. His time here is far from done.

"You sound confident." Alistair smiles.

"I'm a Templar, the Maker has his plans. I don't think this is the end for me." Cullen makes his way to Duncan, stares him in the eyes as he too takes a mouth full of the black liquid. Smiling, the Templar feels the world drop from beneath him and lets sleep take him.

"From this moment forth, Knight Templar Cullen, you are a Grey Warden."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, that's right. I made Keira 'beautiful'. Tones of people have a problem with that. I'm alright with that. There are hundreds of stories out there about your everyday girl (I'm one of those), but I wanted my story to focus on a girl who's the stereotypical beautiful but yet lacks self-confidence. A lot of us tend to think that those who are born 'gorgeous' don't really have any issues, specially when it comes to the realm of luck and confidence. I'm placing my Warden in the shoes of a woman who has beauty, but lacks the knowledge or courage to do stand up for herself, yet has no issues defending those she holds most dear. If this makes sense to you, well Kudos!


	5. Chapter Five : Of War and Of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : I love this chapter. It's one of my faves. Hope you enjoy it just as much!
> 
> Disclaimer : All of this is mostly Biowares...

**Chapter Five : Of War and Of Death**

 

One could almost mistake the earth shattering booms that come from below the encampment as thunder. However, everyone here, knows otherwise. The hoard has begun to show itself. Darkspawn begin to make their presence known, fireballs are being sent crashing down onto what's left of the ruins. The Kings men and the Grey Wardens make themselves ready and head towards the battle ground. The night sky is dark, not one star shines, nor does the moon make an appearance, things do seem grim.

Alistair keeps pace with Duncan, furious that he won't be in the battle, he marches on, trying to prove his point. "This doesn't make sense...you need all the Grey Wardens you can get..." He points with an angry finger to the field. "Not hiding in some tower."

"Alistair, I trust this task only to the Grey Wardens. Lighting the beacon is a serious ordeal. Without it, Loghain's troops will not know when to join the battle and the Kings forces could be crushed." He grips a strong hand on the young man's shoulder, his eyes remain stern. "I need to know that this will not come to pass...should an ordinary man be tasked with this, he might fail."

Exhaling deeply, Alistair kicks at the dirt. "Look, I understand why you need Grey Wardens to do this...I do. But do you really need six of us to run up there...really? Or do you need me out of harms way and surrounded by people that could potentially save my ass?" Alistair glances over to King Cailan's tent, the flaps of the door blow freely in the wind.

Grunting in frustration, Duncan continues on his way, leaving the upset Junior Warden behind. "Alistair, do this. It's not up for debate."

Not wanting their conversation to end this way, Alistair grits his teeth. "Duncan...Maker watch over you."

"May the Maker watch over us all." Duncan turns his back and makes way for the rest of the troops. Alistair, blissfully unaware that this is in fact the last time he will ever speak to his mentor again.

* * *

The Tower of Ishal, tall, dark and most of all, menacing. As the new Wardens make their way up the hill, the battle below rages on. Shouts of battle, rattling of armor and the clang of weapons can all be heard from their position. The rain falling from the darkened sky only adds to the eerie feeling being swept across everyone involved. With the sounds of war drums thundering, they continue on. Once at the top of the hill, they come across two of the Kings soldiers that inform them of how this area has become over run with darkspawn.

"Help us...they're everywhere." A soldier slowly limps towards Alistair. "You..." His eyes look over the faces before him. "You're all Grey Wardens aren't you?"

Looking over his shoulder then back to the wounded man, Alistair nods. His jaw clenches as he remembers his previous argument with Duncan. _Looks like I was wrong...again._

Trying to catch his breath, the soldier looks to his comrade then back to the Wardens. Bent over, he places his hands on his knees, breathing rapidly. "The tower...it's been taken." He begins explaining, his voice raspy.

Confused, Alistair rests a hand on the man's shoulder, trying to steady him. _Maybe he's mistaken_ , he tries to convince himself. "What are you talking about man? Taken how?"

The other soldier steps forward. "The darkstpawn...t-they came up through the lower chambers." His teeth visibly begin to chatter. "They're everywhere...most...most of the men are dead." All eyes are now on Ishal, it was threatening before, but now with this disturbing piece of information, it's more then that. It's a death trap.

Alistair, being the senior Warden, straightens his posture, trying to convey some sort of encouragement. "Then we have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves." Not only is Duncan down there, amongst the rest of the Grey Wardens, but countless of other lives depend on them, not to mention the most important thing of all. The security of Fereldan. "Alright, you two..." He points to the two injured soldiers. "Stay here and guard this entrance. Do not let anything else pass these doors. Understood?"

The two men pass a look of terror and uncertainty between them. "Ser..."

"It's an order. The fate of those men and women down there depend on us!" Alistair uses the most commanding voice he can muster. Saluting, the two men accept what they know is their fate.

"Lets move!"

* * *

"The beacon should be beyond these doors." Kate signals with her chin as she pulls her blades from a genlock. The black blood from the beast, a thick sludge, slowly makes it's way down her weapons and onto the floor. Looking at her blades in disgust, Kate attempts to clean it off on her victims ragged clothing. "We've cleared everything on these floors..." Her trained eyes scan the dark corners of this room. "But we have no idea if anything is slowly following behind us."

Hard decisions, even simple ones are always a challenge for him. For Alistair, knowing someone's life depends on a choice he makes, terrifies him. And at this moment, they all look to him, the senior of the group. The leader. "Right..."

"Well?" Keira supports her weight against her staff as she waits for his answer. The wood in her fingers creak as she patiently waits for his orders. Seeing the look of absence in the man's eyes, Amell spots it, he's terrified. The mage knows that they cannot afford to wait any longer, lifting her brow, she sighs.

"Fine." Wiping the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, she begins issuing commands. "Ty, Thalia and Cullen. You three will remain down here and guard these doors. Cullen will be on the offense." The Templar knight doesn't say anything, only adjusts his sword and shield. "Ty, I want you over there." The mage points to a barrel in a darkened corner. "You'll have a vantage point from there. You _are_ the second line of defense. Make sure to kill anything that Cullen misses. From what I've seen, you're very talented with that bow." The young elf nods and trots over to his appointed position.

Looking to her fellow mage, Keira tries not to seem worried or frightened. "Thalia, I need you here." Keira taps her staff on the stairs. "Cast whatever spells you can from here. If this line of defense fails, you run up these stairs as fast as you can...and find one of us. Alright?"

Complexion ashen, Surana swallows the lump in her throat. "I will."

"As for us..." Keira approaches the remainder of the group. "I will concentrate on getting that fire lit. If for some reason...I fail or become occupied, Kate I want you to take over that task."

The young Cousland wipes her blades and pats her hound on the head. "We got your back." The mabari barks as if agreeing with his master.

"Alistair..." She feels a bit put off giving this man, who's suppose to be their commanding officer, orders. "Once we get through there..." She points to the imaginary space beyond. "I need you to make sure I have a clear path to the beacon."

"Understood." Now with some purpose and some sort of structure, he seems a bit more confident.

"A quick breather, then we are heading up." The dark haired mage quickly pads over to the Templar. "I don't have a lot of time so listen."

Cullen blinks a few times, shocked with her abruptness, then gives her his full attention. "I-I...don't like this. I promised to..." He's not liking that he won't be able to protect both mages at once. A sick feeling in his gut is telling him something bad is going to transpire.

"I know...well, I have an idea what you promised Irving...anyways listen, I need you to make me a promise..." She watches as he lowers his head.

_Another promise? Maker, help me._ "What would you have of me?" He continues to stare at the stone beneath their feet. Then he feels the strangest thing, a tiny warm hand against the side of his face. Without realizing it, he follows the movement of the mage's hand and finds himself staring into Keira's eyes.

"Keep her safe. The best you can. Please." Amell's eyes side glance to the little elven mage, who's standing on the stairs. "Whatever happens...or happens to me...please take care of her." Brown orbs return their focus on his own. "Please."

"I..." Then it hits him. This isn't just a plea for him to keep her best friend safe. No, it's more then that. It's something to find comfort in. Knowing Thalia will be safe from harm will not only give her strength to get the job done, but will give her the courage to do it as well. Unlike them, Amell's not just fighting for her homelands, she's fighting for this woman she considers a sister. The only family she has. "I'll die defending her if I have to." Cullen raises his fist to his chest and bangs on the armor, offering her a Knight's promise.

Allowing her eyes to close briefly, Keira smiles. "Thank-you." Her once beautiful green robes, now tattered with stains of blood and dirt sway with her movements as she stretches up on her toes to meet his height. The mage places a gentle kiss on her guardians cheek. "Be safe."

Like stone, Cullen remains utterly still. A blush is creeping across his face, he can feel it. _Did she really just do that? Now of all places and times?_ His eyes follow the young mage as she makes her way up the stairs.

As the door opens, Keira looks over her friends for what feels like the last time. A sad smile rests on her face as she enters the darkness and disappears with the other Wardens.

* * *

"I see light..." Kate pulls out her twin blades, on full alert. "Something's wrong." Her mabari begins to growl and the hair on his back rises.

Keira keeps an eye on the stairwell behind them as she continues to press forward. "We got to keep moving." Suddenly, her face is crushed against the armor on Alistair's back. "What's the hold..." Her eyes grow big as she glances over the massive shoulder before her to see an Ogre finishing his meal. "Andraste..."

The enormous monster notices these newcomers and tosses his mangled victim aside. Snarling and snorting he charges full speed in their direction. Reacting quickly, Kate dodges aside and tries to use her momentum to bounce off the wall and drive her blades into the beast. Not as slow minded as they thought, the creature spots this and swings one of his arms, sending the rogue and her mabari crashing across the room.

Knowing he must protect the woman behind him, Alistair positions his shield, locks his knees and waits for the impact. _This is going to hurt_. Then his Templar senses kick in, he feels it, the veil tearing. As quickly as possible, Keira sends a blast of frost towards the Ogre, hoping to slow it down. The spell achieves the desired affect and allows enough time for Amell and Alistair to dodge the creature's attack. However, now separated and worried for the poorly armored mage, Alistair feels a pain of panic. Letting out a war cry, he charges the animal. Seeing the challenge offered, the darkspawn charges towards the raging man. Slipping on the ice now covering the floor, the Ogre looses his footing. Alistair and Kate take full advantage of this opportunity. Kate projects herself forward, lashing out with her twins blades, while Alistair continues to bash the creature as hard as he can with his shield.

Calling upon the forces of nature, Keira drops her staff, pushes back her sleeves and commands the rock to do her bidding. "I'll hold him!" She shouts as she makes gestures with her hands, two large pillars form from the stone in the shape of massive fingers and clasp around the monster. "Whatever you're going to do...do it now!"

Ditching his shield, Alistair climbs the stone fingers and thrusts his sword into the darkspawn's throat. The monster roars and breaks free of the stone, sending Alistair flying. Kate continues to hang on to the horns on this creatures cranium and begins stabbing anywhere her blades can penetrate. After a few good blows, the animal begins to sway and eventually falls lifeless to the ground.

Recovering his weapon, Alistair signals for Amell to follow. "The beacon is over here!" They all jog towards what looks similar to a large fire place. "I'm sure we've missed the signal! Lets light it before it's too late."

With a flick of her wrist, the mage lights the fire. The blaze is warm against her cooled flesh. That's the last thing she remembers before getting knocked unconscious.

* * *

There's voices, but they sound far away. Almost like whispers in a fog. There's also light, a fire maybe? Keira allows one of her eyes to slowly open then the next. Her vision slowly clears and she can finally tell that she's in a house. _Wait a minute...a house?_ Her eyes search the room around her. There's a fire roaring, with a pot boiling in the hearth, she can smell the aromas of the meet stew bubbling away. Trying to survey more of the area, she tilts her head to the left, as she does the door opens.

"Ah your eyes finally open." A young woman enters the home and gently closes the door behind her, the light of dawn slowly fading away as she does. "Mother shall be pleased." The woman offers her a smile.

Wincing, trying to focus on the young woman's face, Keira decides that she recognizes this voice. "What happened?" The mage tries to push herself up using her elbows. Seeing the difficulty that Keira's having, the young woman carefully wraps her hands around the injured mage's arms and helps her to sit.

"You were injured and then mother recused you. Do you not remember?" The woman stares at Keira, a bit concerned. "Mother managed to save you and a few of your friends. Though it was a close call. What is important is that you lived."

"Wait...you said some of my friends?" Keira attempts to stand, a pain forms in her chest, quickly she sits back down, clutching at the clothing over her heart. "Who? What happened?"

The golden eyes of the woman standing before her, study Keira's body language. "The two that were with you at the top of the tower, mother was able to rescue...as well as that flea infested mutt. However, she was not able to return. Doing so would have given away our position to the darkspawn."

The young mage's heart begins to pound in her chest, it feels like she's going to die. "You...what you're saying...the others..."

Still observing, the woman crosses her arms. "The others, that were aiding you in your task. They survived, but at a cost."

Keira doesn't know whether to be relieved or more frightened. "They...they survived?" Her eyes haze over with tears. "Where are they? What happened? Please tell me."

Taking a deep breath and crossing her arms, the woman makes her way towards the fireplace. The light from the fire cascades and creates dark shadows, causing the mood to take on a somber feeling. "The man who was to respond to your signal...quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned were massacred." Turning her attention back to the mage, the young lady exhales deeply. "Your friend...he is not taking it well."

"Friend?" Amell reflects over the woman's words for a moment. "Alistair?"

Nodding, the woman takes a few steps closer to the small bed. "He's outside by the fire."

"But he's alright? And what about the others?" Keira's eyes plea with the woman before her for some kind of good news.

"Resting outside in makeshift tents or also by the fire. We kept the wounded in here." The woman continues to wait silently, as if the mage might have more questions.  
"Mother asked to see you when you awoke."

"Mother...wait, you're Morrigan." Feeling a bit at ease now knowing where she is, Keira finds herself a bit more optimistic. "Thank-you, for all that you've done." She adds with sincerity.

"Uh...you...you are welcome." Again, Morrigan's eyes shift. Keira follows her gaze to see them land on another bed, also supporting another injured person.

"Cullen..." The mage whispers, her lip quivering. "By the Maker..."

"I will leave you now. Feel free to talk with mother when you are ready." Morrigan is not sure that the mage heard her, nor does she care. She exits the hut silently.

While supporting her sides with her right arm, Keira slowly makes her way to the old worn chair next to the Templar's bed. "Cullen...can you hear me?" She grabs hold of his bruised hand. No response. His finger don't twitch, he doesn't squeeze her hand, she doesn't even hear the smallest of noise from him. Studying his battered body, she can see that he's been well taken care of. Right away, she spots the craftsmanship in the bandaging and recognizes it to be that of Thalia's. "She's alive...By the Maker...you kept your promise."

Running her hand from Cullen's forehead back into his hair repeatedly, she has a moment to let the feeling of bittersweet settle in. Thankful that both her friends have survived, resentful with herself for the pain that she's caused. Again, she studies the Knight's injuries. His chest and abdomen are completely covered in wrappings. His right upper arm and shoulder have stitching in them, of the likes she's never seen. There's bruising across the left side of his face and jaw, but it's already almost all gone, the coloring now a yellowish, is a clear indicator of time or expert healing. So, either she's been out a long time, or someone is extremely advanced in the art of healing. Not wanting to discover more injuries, she returns her attention to his face.

Tears escape her eyes, as they descend they leave tracks down her cheeks all the way to her chin, where they collect and drip onto the white linen of the bedding. "Cullen...I'm so...so sorry." Not having anything to offer as a sign of gratitude, she kisses his bare knuckles and then traces them with her thumbs. "Andraste...what did I force you to do?"

Behind the crying mage, the door to the little hut opens. Orange warm light pools in onto the floor. "Keira?" Like music to her ears, Amell turns briskly to see Surana standing, unharmed.

"Thalia!" Keira opens her arms and the young elf runs to her. Settling on her knees beside her friend, Surana begins to sob.

"Maker. I thought you had died!" She buries her face in her friends arms. "Cullen forced us to leave. He was so stubborn...he wouldn't listen. He was loosing so much blood...and when I wanted to head back for you..." Just then she stops crying.

"Without a word, he put me over his shoulder and carried me all the way here. Ty followed...but I kicked and screamed the entire way..." Thalia sits back on her heels. "I guess Cullen had seen The Witch in her bird form...When we finally arrived here...there were a few darkspawn that had followed...he...he tore them apart. And as soon as he killed the last one...he just dropped...we were all so shocked when he killed those...those things, we didn't even have time to react to attack them..."

Rising to her feet, Thalia checks his wrist, satisfied with his pulse she continues her story. "He was so quick, that by the time Alistair reached for his sword, Cullen had managed to kill all five of those creatures..." Tired, she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. "Let me tell you...he's heavier then he looks. Took Alistair, Ty and Kate to carry him in here."

Keira continues to listen to the little elf. Caught between amazement and pure horror, she continues to try and absorb everything that's being explained to her.

"Maker...Keira, how long have we known him? I've never seen him like that...never..." Surana stares at the man lying still in the bed, still shocked by his previous actions. "He almost died...a few times in fact. If Morrigan's mother hadn't helped me...he would have." The elven mage pulls her hair back and ties it in a quick bun.

Feeling another bolt of pain, Keira supports her side. "What happened to me?"

"And you need to stop scaring me like that." Surana shakes her head, disappointed. "When I got here...Alistair said you took two arrows to the chest, and you hit your head hard when you fell." Thalia rises from her chair, brushes Amell's hair back and studies her scalp. "Morrigan's mother said if she wouldn't have rescued you when she did, you'd all be dead."

"Wow..." Shaking herself from her reverie, Amell looks to the only exit of the home. "Where is this woman that I owe my life to?"

* * *

The sun is setting as Alistair, Kate and Keira remain seated near the pond. The frogs and animals are unusually quiet and it makes their situation feel that much more dire. The three Wardens continue discussing their plan on how they intend to use the three treaties to form an army. "So can we do this?" Alistair stands and takes a few steps towards the still waters. Although, no longer in his chain armor, his build clearly indicates that he was trained for battle. "Go to Redcliffe and these other places...and build an army?"

The mage and the rogue look to each other then back to him. Keira leans against her staff as she pulls herself up to meet Alistair's eyes. "I thought this was the plan regardless. Why not?"

The young Cousland rolls her eyes and looks up at both of her comrades. "Well...I didn't really have plans anyways. I guess I'm tagging along." As if agreeing, her hound barks his approval.

Just as the three come to an agreement and shake hands. Alistair spots something over Keira's shoulder. Following his gaze, Amell sees the door to the home opening and Cullen ducking out of it. Thalia is trying to convince the battered Templar to return to his bed. Ignoring the elven mage's requests, he slowly marches past her while buttoning up his white shirt. Muttering something under his breath, he continues to make his way to the group near the pond.

Briskly, Alistair makes his way past Amell and towards the other man. "You...you're alive. I...I thought you were dead for sure."

Cullen finishes tying up his shirt and attempts a small smile. "I-I'm fine...I uhm, I'm a little bruised...but really... I, uhm appreciate your concern." Feeling a bit on the spot and nervous, the Templar adjusts his sword and belt around his waist. Clearing his throat, he snaps everyone back to reality. "If...if it wasn't for Morrigan's mother..." Still a bit anxious, he clenches his fists then relaxes them.

"If it wasn't for Flemeth...we'd all surely be dead." Kate tosses a few stones into the pound, causing Keira to jump slightly.

"I...I was by your side...only hours ago..." The dark haired mage takes a few steps towards her Templar Guard. "How...is it that you are awake and walking already?" She questions this out loud, but she knows the answer. Her eyes slowly drift over to the Witch of the wilds, who only returns her stare with a nod. "You should be dead..."

Dropping her staff, the mage jogs over to the massive man and wraps her tiny arms around his neck. Completely flustered and at a lost of what he should do, Cullen's hands begin to try and detach the mage from him, but then his arms freeze in mid air. His amber eyes search the faces of his fellow Grey Wardens, hoping that someone will either pry the woman from him or give him a clue on what he should do in return. He can feel his cheeks and neck slowly turning a shade of pink. The only thing he can sense from the others is awkwardness.

"Thank-you." The mage whispers against his shoulder.

Confused, Cullen tries to adjust his body so that he can sneak away from her grip. "Uhm for...for what exactly...my lady?" Suddenly, the loss of air begins to be an issue as the woman's grip around his neck tightens.

"For keeping your promise." Realizing that her hug has become somewhat restricting and an intrusion on his personal space, Amell releases the man and backs away. "Sorry, I'm just really grateful."

Taking the chance to quickly rub the back of his neck, Cullen clears his throat, yet again. "It's wasn't just a promise..."

"Right..." Amell agrees. "We're your charges. I remember." Alistair hands the mage her staff. "Thanks."

"Well..." Alistair tries to sweep the awkward moment away, for everyone. "Seeing as how we're all healed up and ready. We really should be heading out while we are ahead of the darkspawn."

Hearing this, Flemeth approaches the group. Her arms crossed and a smile set across her face, the Witch offers them some unexpected help. "I think it would be wise if you all rest, then leave in the morning. I also have an idea that might help..."

* * *

The group of Wardens weave through the forest behind their guide, Morrigan. "We must reach the edge of the forest before nightfall, you may rest there once we arrive if you wish. The village of Lothering is not far after that, but we should pass through as quickly as possible." The daughter of Flemeth, continues on her path as the others follow.

"So we are listening to her now?" Ty questions Surana in a hushed tone. His eyes ever watchful over the shadows that run deep in the forest.

"It's not like that." Thalia pushes branches aside and uses her staff as a walking stick. "Alistair decided that since she's tagging along, she might as well show us how to get out of here."

The elven rogue's ears perk up as he thinks he now understands. "Oh, so he's our leader? He did decide what the Witch should do."

Thalia sigh's. "I don't think it works like that. Besides, it was Keira's idea to accept Flemeth's offer."

"Ah ha! So she's the Commanding officer!" Ty chops at some overgrowth as he continues following behind Surana.

Frustrated, Thalia turns to face the other elf. "No. Look if anyone should be in charge, it should be Alistair or Cullen. Alistair is the senior Warden here...I don't really know how much experience he has in the field." She takes a drink from her water skin and passes it to Ty, who takes a greedy gulp. "However, Cullen does have a lot of experience with both being in the field and commanding soldiers."

"But your friend." Ty looks to Keira. "She seems...well, good at issuing orders. Does she have any experience with this sort of thing?" His focus returns to Thalia.

"No...but she's always had a commanding presence. She knows how to make the hard decisions and knows how to keep people safe." Her memories begin to drift off to recent events.

Feeling a sense of sadness, Ty ushers her to move on. "We should keep moving." He points to the rest of the group. Just as they catch up, the rest of their comrades come to a complete stop. "What's going on?" Ty whispers, getting his weapons ready.

"Lothering is just over that hill. We should camp here for the rest of the night. Our visit in this village must be brief." Morrigan informs as she backs up into the trees, then disappears into the darkness.

"Right...very creepy." Alistair continues to stare at the spot where Morrigan vanished. "We should all get some rest. I'll take first watch." Knowing full well he won't be able to sleep, he hopes these new recruits will at least be able to.

* * *

_In the distance, a dragon's piercing roar grows louder. Heat and steam make the air hard to breathe. Lava is the only source of light here, and it adds to the eerie feeling of being alone. Rocks crumble and fall as the dragon perches itself on a cliff just over a massive gathering of darkspawn. Beckoning the hoard to march on, the dragon's roars become more powerful. Flames burst from the creatures mouth and a woman screams._

"Keira!" Amell can hear her name being called, someone must be in trouble. Her vision slowly clears and she sees Thalia sitting next to her, holding onto her shoulder.

"W-what's going on? Did you have a bad dream?" Keira begins to sit up while rubbing at her eyes. Her night garments stick to her skin, completely soaked in her own sweat.

"No...that was you." Surana informs her friend.

"Oh...well I heard someone screaming...is Kate alright?" The mage stifles a yawn with her fist as her eyes search the camp ground. Everyone seems to still be asleep, accept for Thalia and Alistair, who's standing just a few feet away, looking grim.

"The screaming you heard...Keira...that was you." Thalia's eyes lock with her fellow mage. "Are you alright?"

Stunned, Amell looks to both of them confused. "I'm fine. Just...just a nightmare I guess...It just felt so real."

"Must be one hell of..." Thalia begins, but is cut short by Alistair.

"Well it is real...sort of..." Alistair sighs and crouches before the two women. Plucking a stick from the ground, he makes random designs in the dirt. "You see...part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was...hearing them." He offers a small grin. "The Archedemon...it talks... to the hoard and we feel it just as they do. That's why we know this is really a blight." He tosses the twig aside, rubs his hands together and stares at his feet. "It takes a bit, but eventually you can block the dreams out. Anyways, I heard you thrashing around and thought I should tell you."

"The entire damn camp heard her." Ty tosses on his bed roll and covers his head with his arm.

Alistair glances over his shoulder at the young elf then back to the women before him. "It was scary at first for me too." He admits. Hearing heavy footsteps behind him, Alistair looks up quickly to find Cullen looming over him. Not liking confrontation amongst friends, Thalia takes this as a sign to leave and attempt to make herself seem busy.

"Anything else we should know about?" The Templar asks with his arms crossed, clearly not impressed with the lack of information they have received.

Not intimidated by the other man, Alistair remains crouched. "Other then dying young and the whole defeat the blight alone thing...nooo...I'm all tapped out of surprises." Coming to a full stand, trying to reach the other Templar's height, Alistair begins a staring contest. "Well, you're all up now right? We should pack up camp and get a move on."

Not wanting to loose his title, "The King of Staring", Cullen does not back down from this challenge. He wants his point made, he's angry about being left in the dark. Alistair seeming not so determined to keep this game going, makes some sort of snickering noise by sucking in air through his teeth and turns his back on the larger man.

"Stop it." Keira pokes Cullen in his injured arm and he hisses back minor pain. Knowing full well why Cullen is upset, she does not see the point of taking it out on a man who is only six months their senior.

Looking down at her, unimpressed, the Templar tries to justify his actions. "What? He...he could have told us. It sort of seems like...like information we should know..." Cullen continues to keep his arms crossed and continues staring at Alistair's retreating form. "A-and what if there's something else...something he's not telling us?" His eyes drift to her face.

"Stop it." Keira huffs. "I can tell by the way that you're talking that you know you're wrong. Cullen how long have we known each other? I know that tone in your voice." She sees the Templar Knight's shoulders slump. "He's kind of been thrust into this...just like us. He wasn't prepared to take the remaining Grey Wardens and form an army. You know he's fresh from the Chantry. He, unlike you, does not have ten plus years of experience on his side."

Cullen looks back at the younger Templar. "You're...right."

"Look, if you're going to blame anyone for our situation..." Closing her eyes, Amell begins to rub her temples and her nose starts to bleed. "Blame me."

The Templar's brow knits in confusion. "Uhm for what...y-you couldn't have known..." Turning his attention back to the mage, he suddenly forgets their current conversation. "Keira...are you alright?" He places the palms of his hands along the side of her face, trying to sense any form of magic. Knowing she'd just had a nightmare, he doesn't want to take the chance of it being a blood magic attack. Her eyes remain close as he tilts her head from side to side.

"Nothing..."

"Hmmm...?" She continues massaging her temples.

"H-how long have you been having...these headaches?" He tries to soothe her pain by running circles with his thumbs in the area she seems to be paying attention to. "Does Thalia know? I-I can fetch her...for you."

"She knows...been having them since I banged my head." Just then a wave of nausea passes her, and her body begins to sway. "I feel...warm..."

"I-I'm going to get Thalia. You look..." Just as he pulls his hands away to look for the other mage, Amell feels her temperature spike and she falls forward.

"Cullen...Help..." Her knees give out and her eyes roll to the back of her skull.

The Knight catches the falling mage just as she plummets to the ground. Landing on his knees, he curses himself for turning away from her. "Surana!" He calls for the healer as he turns Amell over in his arms so that she's facing upwards. Her skin is pale and warm, covered in sweat. Pushing her hair away from her face, he places the back of his hand over her mouth. "Still breathing." His eyes survey the campsite and he catches site of Thalia racing towards them.

"What happened?" She slides and lands next to him. Immediately, the healer is checking Keira's eyes, her pulse and her breathing.

Stammering, Cullen tries to recall everything. "I-I don't know...we...we were talking...she said she had a head ache...her nose was bleeding...she didn't look well. I was about to go look for you when s-she called for me..and then she just... fell." Continuing to hold the mage still, while the healer pulls out ingredients from her pouches, Cullen looks to the elf for answers. "What's wrong with her?"

"I'm not sure." Thalia mixes a few things into a cup and adds some water from her water skin. "She could have a concussion from when she hit her head. There could have been poison on the arrows we didn't think of...I don't know...could be a number of things."

"It's stress. Silly, yes I know. However, given the right amount, it can do a great deal to a person." Morrigan finally reappears and makes her way over to the fallen mage. "Mother told me this might happen. She's been under a great deal of stress lately, hasn't she?" This question she directs at Surana, who nods. "I see. So it's true." The Witch's eyes glance over everyone in the area. Looking back to the elven mage, she hands her some elf root. "Add this to the tea, get her to drink all of it. She will be fine, however it will take time. T'might be why her nightmare was so powerful."

Thalia warms the cup with a spell between her hands, and attempts to get her friend to drink. "Keira. You need to drink this. I know you don't feel well, but this will help." Looking to Cullen for help, she signals him to lift the woman's head a bit higher. "Here." The elven woman begins tilting the cup against Amell's lips. "Drink this."

Doing as commanded, the mage drinks all of the mixture. Color slowly begins to return to her cheeks and her skin returns to a normal temperature. "Is she going to be alright?" Kate asks in concern. "Should we find somewhere to stay in Lothering? You know, so that she can get some proper rest?"

"No." Cullen looks to the rest of the group. "Like Morrigan said. We need to keep moving." His eyes land on the Witch, who seems impressed that a Templar agrees with her. "She can rest while we finish packing up. If she's not up by the time we're done...I'll carry her."

Alistair snickers. "You can't carry her. Not in the condition you're in." Alistair motions to his bandages. "No offense."

"I've carried a lot more, in worse conditions. Do I also need to remind you that I use to hunt down Maleficar...not an easy job." Cradling his charge in his arms, he comes to a full stand, but with difficulties.

Noticing this, Alistair shakes his head. "No, but you seem to forget that you are no longer a puppet of the Chantry. You're a Grey Warden! I don't doubt your strength or your determination. But it seems that I need to remind you, Ser, that we are all on the same side here." Alistair holds out his arms towards the ill mage. "I will not let any harm come to her." He promises, with sincerity. The younger Templar approaches Cullen and gently takes Keira from him. "She's not the only one that needs rest you know."

Cullen's arms hang defeated by his side. "I-I know...but I'm watching you." He glares.

"Of coarse..." Alistair shifts the woman's weight, and begins marching towards Lothering.

The former Templar curses himself inwardly for failing his duties as protector of these two former Tower Mages. Cullen sighs, then his body jolts slightly when he feels tiny fingers wrap around his calloused hand.

"You're doing a great job. You know that right?" Surana looks up with her bright blue eyes to meet his gaze and smiles.

Snickering, Cullen straightens his posture. "Uhm...is that so?"

Nodding gently, the young elf watches as Alistair carries her human friend. "According to my standards you are." The young mage squeezes his hand a final time and then lets go. "We are all still alive. And to me, that's darn impressive considering what we've been through." Throwing her pack over her shoulders, Thalia winks in his direction. "Now, lets get this army built, shall we?"

* * *

There's no room in this village. Not in the Inn, not in the Chantry, not in the barns. No one anywhere has a few beds to spare for the night. So they're camping, in the middle of a village, they have a camp set up. Lothering is not far from the forest's edge at all, but having to take care of those highway robbing bandits, did take up some of their time. So did running errands for what seemed like everyone here, now that took up a great chunk of their day. However, it did pay off in the end. The group had heard rumors of there being small odd jobs for coin or rewards. They had split into three groups and got as many jobs done as possible. At the end of the day, they met up at the agreed camp site. In the end, Alistair decides, maybe splitting up hadn't been the greatest idea that Keira had come up with.

Thalia and Kate had come back with one extra person, not to Kates approval however, a giant Qunari by the name of Sten. Not only was this man massive, and going to be hard to feed, and equip, but he was also a known murderer. _Perfect._ Then when Alistair thought things couldn't get worse. Cullen, Keira and Morrigan also show up with one extra person. A lay sister by the name of Leliana, oh and not just any lay sister. A crazy one. _The maker talks to me...by the way, I'm super good with a bow!_ Alistair can feel the inner panic attack he's having already. _One of these people are surely going to kill us in our sleep!_

The only excitement that he, Ty and Kate's mabari, _that Alistair began calling Grunt_ , came across were a pack of giant spiders, _yay_ , and some very aggressive wolves.

"Ok. New rule! No more new people." Alistair, clearly aggravated, begins to walk away from the group with his hands resting on his hips.

"Are you alright?" Kate jogs up beside him.

"Me? Fine...Why?" Alistair continues his pace, not slowing down.

"Well, you just seem...quiet." Kate tries to catch her breath, her small legs having a hard time keeping up with his long strides.

Reaching a little bridge running over the small river, Alistair comes to a stop and rests his hands against the brick. "It's just...I've kind of let Keira take the lead here...and maybe that's not a bad thing. I don't really know where we should head first. Who we should talk to first. And then...and then..."

"There's Duncan." Katherine finishes for him.

"Yes...I've should have handled that better." Alistair stares at his reflection in the water below and then turns away. "Duncan warned me from the beginning that this could happen. Anyone of us can die at any moment..."

"You're aloud to grieve you know." The young woman leans against the brick beside him.

"I'd like to have a proper funeral for him, when this is all over, if we're still alive." He brings his eyes up to the horizon. "I think he was from Highever, like yourself."

Feeling a pang of loss, Kate's mood grows dark. "Yes..."

"Maker, I'm sorry...I'm so stupid..." Alistair pulls the young woman to him in a hug, more on instinct then thought. "I have this problem, where I say things...and they never come out right...I'm so sorry..."

"It's...alright." She tries to blink back the tears.

"Did you want to talk about it?" Alistair allows Kate to pull away, and pretends not to see her dry her eyes.

"I had to leave my parents there to die..."

* * *

The sun is setting, the smells of Keira's and Morrigan's combined cooking skills, fill the area with an aroma that causes everyone's stomach to growl. "They've been gone a long time..." Keira notes as she tears up some herbs and tosses them into the pot.

"And? What of it?" Morrigan continues to add more rabbit meat to the stew. "I find it rather pleasant to have that whimpering idiot, complaining somewhere else for a change." The witch continues to cut and add meat to the bubbling water.

"He's been through a lot the past few days, don't you think?" Keira finds herself getting quite annoyed with this woman's attitude towards those grieving, and lets face it, they are all grieving one way or another.

"Yes, but will acting like a child do anything to aid the matter? Hmmm?" Dusting off her hands, Morrigan turns and heads off somewhere in the distance.

"Uhm she has a point..." Cullen admits. "A very poor one...but one none then less." He deposits his sword he'd been polishing against the log he's sitting on. "Or...m-maybe she just doesn't fussy him."

"She might have a point, and she may not like him." The mage turns to the Templar. "But that doesn't give her the right to judge someone because they are grieving. Most of us here are grieving for someone."

Cullen doesn't say anything, he only continues to watch Keira as she prepares the dinner for this evening. "S-so how are you feeling?"

"Cullen if you ask me that one more time today...I swear..." She doesn't need to look over her shoulder to know his facial reaction. His jaw set, his brow concerned.

The Templar studies his other charge as she laughs and talks with the bard Leliana. "She, uhm seems... happier."

Searching to whom he's referring to, Keira's looks up to see Thalia, actually looking quite happy for the first time in days. "Yeah. She's always been one for the girly stuff...you know..." The mage states, more the questions. "Since we were little, she's always loved songs and stories and gossip." Amell smiles at memories from long ago.

"As soon as I met Leliana and saw what she could do, something just told me that she would be needed, that she would be an asset." Her smile fades when she turns back to Cullen, wanting his honest opinion. "Do you think I made a bad decision?"

"Uh, well...her skills do make her an asset. I'm just worried about her... mental state." His eyes leave the laughing mage and bard. Now refocusing on his weapon, he begins to polish and sharpen it once more. "Only time will tell I guess..."

As the mage continues to prepare their dinner, Alistair and Kate return, looking a little muddy and battered. "Ah you have both been rolling in the mud have you?" The bard rolls the words off her tongue with an accent that reminds Thalia of a song bird. A kind of nutty song bird, but a delightful one none the less.

Looking embarrassed, Alistair stops in his tracks. "What? Oh...no, no, no, no...It's just that...we were there..." He points to the bridge in the distance over his shoulder with his thumb. "And then...well we were over there...and..."

"We were ambushed by commoners." Kate Cousland finishes. Taking a seat on a stool near the fire, she holds out her hands, trying to gain some warmth. Morrigan, not five feet from Kate decides to take a seat further away.

"You smell horrible and you look terrible." Morrigan holds her nose in mock expression of her dislike of their current state.

"Yeah well...those guys really wanted to collect a bounty on our Warden heads." Alistair takes a seat next to Kate and he too also tries to warm himself by the fire. "We can't stay anywhere long...not with this bounty out on our heads."

Amell feeling the mood grow desperate, decides to take the lead again. "So we stay here the night. We buy supplies in the morning and head out. Tomorrow, we make way for Redcliffe." No one seems to disagree with that plan, she even receives a nod of agreement from Alistair and Kate. "Right..."

* * *

"I thought I said no more people. Don't you think we have enough tag alongs?" Alistair tries to gain Keira's attention as they walk along a dirt road, the mage continues to study the map in her hands as they continue their journey. Glancing back at the two dwarfs, Alistair shakes his head and lets out a deep breath. "Alright, I understand your point...sort of. Yes it's handy that they have a cart and a horse, it will come in handy...but really...two more people to take care of. And the worst part, in exchange for protecting him while he and his son travels with us, he'll sell us some goods?" Alistair waves his hands in the air. "Did you hear me? I said sell. Not even for a good discount. What kind of..."

"Alistair, he still has to make coin." Amell continues her pace while keeping her eyes on the big map in her hands. "And we are doing more then having his cart around, all of our supplies, tents and extra gear is in there. Don't you think that's a fair bargain? Or would you rather carry all that stuff yourself?" Keira peers over her papers for just a moment to regard her companion. "Or maybe, if you're feeling brave enough, you could ask Sten to carry everything."

"Right, right. I get it. Forget I complained." Hooking his thumbs in his belt, he keeps pace with the little mage and her Templar Guard. Glancing over her shoulder, Alistair tries to get a good idea of what her plan is.

"Do you think this is a good spot for camp tonight?" She points to a small area near a stream on the parchment. "Or is it too far?" The mage tilts her head in Alistair's direction, and waits for an answer.

"No, that's a good spot. It's actually not much further. We should reach it before sunset and still have some day light left." At least, he figures, he's contributing somehow. "After that, should be just another days march to Redcliffe."

Satisfied, the mage rolls up the map and places it back into her pack. "Good." Keira studies her muddy attire and that of the rest of the group. "We could all use some time to get clean up."

* * *

The tents are pitched, the camp fire is blazing, the stew is bubbling. For once, since their long journey, the stars make an appearance in the sky, as does the moon. The fire cracks and sends sparks dancing into the breeze. A breeze, Keira has to admit, smells much better now that everyone is cleaned up and in clean clothing. Bodahn was kind enough to supply everyone with scented soaps and oils. Her eyes then survey the area in search for new scenes to draw in her journal. Her gaze lands on Thalia and Leliana, the bard is trying to teach the little elf a few easy self defense techniques. Finding this amusing, Amell begins sketching the display before her in her parchments.

"And what are you doing?" Alistair pears over her shoulder as he takes a seat beside the mage in the grass. "Drawing? You wouldn't want to see my attempts. Very bad." His eyes also follow the movements of the women in the field. "That's a good idea."

"What? Teaching Thalia some defensive moves?" Keira snorts. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea or a bad one." She comments as she continues to draw the two women.

Leaning back on his arms, Alistair studies Amell's sketch. "You don't think maybe you should learn a few..."

Dropping her quill, the mage turns to face this man who is now annoying her. "What? Why?" For some reason she feels ashamed, her eyes dart from Thalia and then to Cullen. "What did they tell you?"

"Whoa...calm down." Alistair lowers his voice. "Nobody told me anything. I just meant...seeing as how we're trying to build an army..." Adjusting his weight so that he's sitting again, the young Templar crosses his arms over his knees. "Yeah...and I guess those men attacking you...at Ostagar...would also be another reason."

"Right, sorry." The mage begins drawing once more, then drops her quill again. "I don't want to hurt anyone." She admits. "Really."

"Uh huh...I don't think you'll have much of a choice. Considering our situation." He can see that she understands his point. "Is something bothering you? Not...that I'm trying to pry or anything..."

Exhaling deeply, Keira allows herself to lay in the grass and look up at the sky. "You wouldn't understand. You're...just...well you, not to say that you don't or haven't had your fair share of obstacles..."

"Fair enough." Alistair takes part in laying back to look at the stars.

"But..." The mage clasps her hands over her stomach and chews at her bottom lip. "Have you ever felt like there's too much on your plate?"

"Well, sure." He admits he can agree to this, specially looking back on the past few days. "Keira...you're a mage. I know. And that's alright with me."

Deciding that maybe, just maybe she's found yet another trust worthy person, she concludes that maybe he needs to know a little more about her and her two companions. "We've had it rough...me and Thalia. She was always the star apprentice, everyone's top pic for brightest and most favored to go far in the ranks of the Tower. I've always had a hard time with healing magic, no big deal. It didn't put all the attention on me."

Keira sighs, hating that these words are being spoken. "And you know what, that's always been just fine by me. But...I've always received...well that kind of unwanted attention..."

Alistair knows he doesn't like where this is going. "I'm sorry." He tries to keep his focus on the night sky, but his eyes keep side glancing to the little mage laying beside him.

"It's alright." Amell plucks a piece of grass and twists it between her fingers.

"So where does that _big_ Templar come in?" He finds himself curious about the entire situation and actually wanting to know more about all of it. Even magic.

Grinning, the mage tilts her head to the side to look at Alistair. "Well at a young age, I was always...well leaving the dormitories. I was constantly harassed during the day, so me and Thalia would sneak out at night into the library." She clears her throat. "Cullen always caught us...always." She giggles at the lost memory.

Turning onto her abdomen, Keira continues to play with the blade of grass. "As I reached my teen years, I would go by myself. Thalia use to be exhausted with her studies, so I didn't mind going alone."

Alistair's eyes follow the quick motions of the mage's little fingers against the piece of grass. He notices how she tends to it, she's focused on it, this tiny blade of grass. "Keira?"

The mage drops the grass and continues. "Right...so anyways, a few of the male apprentices decided that I wasn't actually rejecting their advances...that I was in all actuality playing hard to get..." The mage scoffs and blows a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Like that makes any sense. They pinned me in a dark corner, knowing I couldn't use magic for fear of punishment." Briskly she sits up, bringing her knees up, she rests her chin on them. Her brown eyes land on Cullen's outlined form, who's watching Thalia's progress tentatively.

Following her gaze, Alistair comes to a conclusion. "He stopped them didn't he?" His eyes return to the dark haired mage.

Keira nods slowly. "Yes." She responds quietly. "And he would, again and again. Not just from them...but Templars and Older Mages." She sighs. "The girls in our dorm...Said that I should be thanking the Maker for my beauty...for a mage, I'm lucky to have been blessed with such a gift." Keira pulls back her hair, twists it and lets it fall down her back again. "Right."

"At least he was always there on time...right?" He catches his words after he says them and then feels his heart sink. _Do I want to know?_

Not saying a word, the mage turns to look at him. Her mouth forms a sad smile, her eyes are small and her brow is angled. In that moment he knows. The one thing that was truly _hers_ , was taken away. His heart sinks for this woman. Trying to be encouraging, he offers the same smile. The mage turns her attentions back to Surana and Leliana and nothing else is spoken between them. Alistair takes a moment and watches the flames in the fire as they twist and turn. Breathing deeply, he glances up and notices Cullen staring back at him. He offers the other Templar a nod, which to his surprise he politely returns. At last, Alistair understands this man and his need to protect these two women.

Finally Alistair is able to understand the guilt that Cullen must be carrying. The pain of knowing that he could of helped an innocent, of what this poor girl went through when no one was around to hear her pleas for help. Deciding to shake it off and think of better things, Alistair pulls out a rose from his shirt.

"Here do you know what this is?" Tapping Keira on the shoulder, he hands her the flower.

Raising a brow, Amell studies the bud in her hands. "Is it a rose?" She's actually never seen a real one, well not in person.

"Yes. I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, how can something so beautiful remain in a place with so much despair and ugliness." Snickering at himself, Alistair rolls his shoulders, feeling a bit silly. "I probably should of left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I had it ever since." Stretching to stand, Alistair hops to his feet. "Anyways, I was thinking...here I am doing all this complaining and you haven't been having the best of time either. You haven't exactly had the good times that I've had with the Wardens...so well anyways, I thought I would give it to you."

_Dangerous territory here._ Alistair reminds himself as he catches Cullen still glaring at him. "In a lot of ways, that rose reminds me of you."

Still staring at the gift in her hands, Keira doesn't exactly know if she should be accepting something like this from someone she barely knows. "I...uh...thank-you." Quickly she looks up at him.

"Oh don't worry." He waves his hands abruptly. "This doesn't mean...well you know...anything like that...I uhm..." He feels his neck heating up and he knows his face will turn a shade a red soon. "It's just...a gift you know...because you seemed so down and...uhhh...I didn't want you to think that being beautiful meant to be a curse..." Now he's stammering and he can't stop. _I must walk away. Now._ "Alright...so you like it...you're welcome...uhm good night." Offering a quick salute, Alistair heads for the confines of his tent. _Maker what's wrong with me._

Cullen rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he releases his grip on the hilt of his sword. He knows everyone here is 'on the same side', but so was everyone back at the Tower. _You can never be too careful._ He reminds himself. _Never._ His attention returns to the two women dueling in the field. Looking on in admiration, seeing Thalia's progress in such little time warms his heart. She's always bee a smart girl. Then, just as the air grows cool, the Templar spots a figure in the tree line. Just as he's about to stand, Kate dashes past him.

"Fergus! By the Maker you're alive!"


	6. Chapter 6 : Ancient History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just adding another chapter. And also, please R and R.
> 
> Disclaimer : Why Bioware why must you own all that we love.

**Chapter 6 : Ancient History**

It's funny, Katherine Cousland admits, that when the feeling of loneliness and despair finally become her true companion, The Maker blesses her with a gift. That of a surviving family member. Her brother, Fergus has survived. But with this new found happiness, comes more grief. More reflection on all that they have lost.

The siblings sit together near the crackling fire. The warm light from the flames, illuminates how utterly tired and broken her brother truly is. His armor is battered and worn, he's missing his right gauntlet, and his long sword is in dyer need of some love and polishing. Kate can tell he's been in the wild on his own for some time. The dark circles under his eyes, a clear indication of no sleep or rest. His facial hair is no longer tended to and he's unbelievably pale. Leaning against the massive log, Fergus allows the little elven mage to tend to his wounded arm while he catches up with his sister.

"Where is everyone? The men, that father sent with you." The younger Cousland tries to figure out exactly what happened to her brother.

Fergus's features turn grim. "Most of my men were killed. I never made it to the battle at Ostagar. We were still scouting in the woods when my party was attacked by a group of Rendon Howe's soldiers. Only a few of us made it through that fight." Allowing himself to lean further back, he adjusts his arm so that Thalia can get a better look at the damage there. Offering the white haired mage a small smile, he turns his attention back to Kate. "It's only through...interrogating one of those men that I found out...about...what happened." Taking in a shaky breath, Fergus tries to rid himself of those thoughts. Of his child and wife, who probably called out for him in their last moments...

"Fergus?" Kate grasps his free hand, her eyes teary.

"Until just a few days ago, I thought you to be dead." The brown gentle eyes that he's always had, warm her soul once more. "When I heard that my little sister had become a Grey Warden...I was surprised, to put it mildly. Father...he would have been so proud of you. I know I am." With this, he reaches up and brings her forehead to his. "How I have missed you little sister."

"And I you, brother." Sniffling back her tears, the younger Cousland realizes something. "If Howe's guards only managed to kill some of our men...then..."

"Darkspawn. We were headed towards Ostagar when we were ambushed by darkspawn. They killed the remaining of my men...I managed to survive...I've been traveling a few weeks now...and somehow I've manage to stumble upon you." With this he offers her a smile. "Thank the Maker you made it out alive."

At this moment, all Kate can feel is guilt. Why couldn't Oren and Oriana have lived instead of herself? Why couldn't she have gotten to at least one family member in time? Instead, all that's left, is a hallow empty version of her former self and a tormented, pain stricken shell of her brother.

"Howe will pay, I swear it brother." Kate extends her hand to her sibling, who grips it with his own, the leather of both their gloved hands tenses and makes noise as their grip tightens.

"Yes. That he will sister. Together, we'll see that our family is avenged."

Now finished with her examination and bandaging, Thalia wipes her hands together and clears her throat. "Well, Ser, I've patched you up and healed what I could. Now I suggest that you eat and get some well deserved rest."

The damaged man's eyes meet her own. "I thank-you, my lady." He offers her a slight nod. "I appreciate all that you've done. Truly, I am grateful."

"Anyone ever tell you two, how much alike you are?" Surana offers a hand and helps the injured Cousland to come to a full stand.

Trying to hide his amusement, Fergus glances back to his sister and then back to the little mage. "Yes, quite often actually, but don't tell her that. It makes her a bit cranky." Winking quickly, he laughs and sheathes his long sword.

"Oh, ok...anyways, about you getting something to eat."

* * *

After the arrival of Fergus, Keira had thought it best to give the two family members some privacy. After all, they probably had a lot to catch up on. Amell now wonders, if Kate will leave with her brother to Highever, or if he too will join them on their long journey. Deciding not to worry about it too much, the mage concludes that washing up quickly would probably do her some good before going to sleep. Making her way to the edge of the small ravine, she can hear footsteps crunching on leaves not too far behind her. Shaking her head as she pushes a branch from her path, she continues on her way.

"I know you're there Cullen, I can hear you. You're not even very stealthy."

"I..uhm...I'm not trying to be." He states, tripping over a large rock as he makes his way out of the shadows. "Thalia is surrounded by everyone near the fire...I-I didn't..."

"I know." Amell knows he means well, that he only wants to protect her. Wandering out on her own, specially at night, was probably not the brightest idea she's had. Then, something occurs to her, it's been a while since she gave him a hard time. "But you should warn a lady when you're in hiding. Or lurking about..."

Shocked at her accusation, he tries to correct the situation. "Woah...I-I was in no way lurking or hiding..."

"What if I was coming here to wash up?" The naughty mage doesn't have to turn to know that his face is burning. "I could have been washing my clothing. All of it."

"I...uhm...I didn't mean to..." The Templar can feel his nervousness getting the best of him and he begins to back up, his hands up in surrender. "I-I wasn't trying to see you... b-bathe, my lady."

Feigning hurt, she scoffs. "So what, now you're saying I'm not worth looking at?"

_How did I get myself into this predicament?_ Cullen's brain begins to race. "I...uhm, no..."

"No?" She continues her little charade, knowing she's getting the better of him.

"I-It's not that you're not wroth looking at...Maker...no that's not it..." He rubs his left temple. "I-I mean...uh, you're very pretty. It's just I...I was just making sure that..." He looks back over his shoulder towards the campsite. How he wishes he could escape this, but he can't leave her all alone, again.

"Cullen. Relax, I'm just pestering you. Once more." Grinning, Keira pushes her hair up into a bun and begins washing her face and neck with the cool water.

"You're evil. You know that right?" He chuckles, his shoulders slowly begin to relax. "You should be more careful, someone might mistake you for an abomination with games like that." He snorts, kicking up some dust, his hands resting in his pant pockets.

Becoming serious, Amell stands and takes a few steps towards the Templar, her face still dripping wet. "Then rid the world of me. Run me through with your blade." Her eyes land on the weapon securely at his side. Ashamed, that his words, meant for play were taken the wrong way, Cullen hangs his head low, twisting his bottom lip.

"Isn't that what your suppose to do? Isn't that what this means?" The mage lifts his left forearm and drags a finger along his tattoo. "Seek and destroy abominations. Guard the world from the likes of me?" Quickly, she releases her grip on him, disgusted with his marking.

Not able to face her, he tilts his head to the side, trying to avoid eye contact. The Templar spots it, in the way she moves, her body language is what gives her away. He knows this all too well, he's seen this look before in many mages. Despair, solitude, fear. Keira can see him clench his jaw muscles.

"What? Am I aggravating you dear Ser? Please, do tell." Smiling cruelly, she steps closer to the Templar. Pulling herself up with the collar of his shirt, she stands on her tip toes and breathes against his neck. Licking her lips, her fingers tighten on his collar. Her words are like ice, cold and menacing. "Don't worry...little tin soldier... I know how I discuss each and every one of you. What I am. What I can do. How I make you feel." She hisses.

The mage drags a finger along his collar bone and up his jaw. "But that's never enough for your brethren to keep their hands off me is it? Hmmm? Or to keep their hands off themselves when they think of me. So why don't you do it? Strike me down, now...end the temptation...rid the world of one more mage...or is there something else you wish from me." Coyly, she drags her smooth leg up his thigh. "Something more...intimate? Do you wish to lay your hands upon me? Hmmm? Tell me. Or do you prefer to keep your hands to yourself and think of this body?" Now she trails her finger down the length of his chest as he heaves heavy breaths. "This cruel torture the Maker has presented before you. Forever dangling in front of you, but always..."

"Stop it." Cullen grabs hold of her shoulders and quickly holds her away at arms length. "Enough." His nostrils flare with the anger he feels in his chest and he looks to her concerned. In all his years of being a Templar, in all his years of standing guard in that Tower, never has someone struck his nerves the way she has in this instance. All the looks, the language and the violence that had been directed towards him in Kinloch, had never bothered him like this. But Keira's conduct, the words she's spewing like venom, is more then his patience can bare .

"What's gotten into you?" Suddenly the small mage looks away, looking confused. When she doesn't answer him, the Templar shakes her frame roughly. "Keira? Why are you acting like this?"

"You're hurting me." She whispers, her eyes studying his hands wrapped around her upper arms. "Let go."

Loosening his grip on her slightly, he tries to keep the mage focused. "How...how could you ask me...any of this?" Closing his eyes, Cullen takes a deep breath. "You know I would never...never, do anything to harm you."

"Right..." Amell looks away from his face, unamused and unconvinced.

"Even...if you were to turn into..." He can't even finish the thought, shivers run down his spine. "I-I...don't know if I could." Releasing his grip on her, he turns and begins pacing with his hands on his hips. "Do you think so little of me?" He questions, obviously stunned. "Do you think I like that part...killing someone I've known all these years? Knowing all I can do is watch...as their eyes loose all signs of life and haze over...as their body twists and contorts into something unrecognizable."

Pissed and more then a bit insulted, the Templar allows his angry gaze to fall onto his charge. "How dare you pass judgement on me! How dare you accuse me of..." Pointing to his chest with his thumb, he continues to pace, astonished. "Of anything so vulgar! I am a man of my word! Of duty!"

Irritated, he points a finger at this antagonizing mage. "You have no right to put me in the same category as those...those beasts. Those vile men." Rubbing his hand over his face and letting it linger on his mouth, the Templar finds himself astound. Cullen turns his back to her, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm insulted...that you would even think that I-I could ever..." He stares at his hands before him and his voice takes on a low tone. "T-that I-I would ever...attempt to take something so...chaste from you. You, of all people...should know the depth of my character. My sincerity...in keeping you and Thalia, safe...has and will always be...genuine."

"I know...I know..." Keira begins to sob. Covering her face she drops to her knees. Embarrassed.

"Then why?" He continues to tower over her, his voice still low and gruff.

"I don't know...I-I just feel so angry, so lost." Continuing to sob, she slumps down lower. "I'm just so tired, I want it all to end. Sometimes I just hate being alive. My life is almost pointless. If the Maker wants to punish me...I just want it to happen and be done with. I'm so tired of this torture of a false life." Glancing up behind tattered hair, tears still streaming down her face, Keira looks to her guardian for compassion. "Cullen, I'm so sorry...please forgive me...I'm so sorry..." She mumbles off before covering her face once more.

Nodding, knowing she can't see his answer, he takes a seat beside her in the grass and drapes an arm over her shoulder. The mage, still weeping over her actions, embraces her friend. Cullen wraps his arms around her shaking frame. "It's alright. Long forgotten now. It's alright." He hushes her, feeling awkward, hoping that she'll stop crying in his arms, soon. Keira, still humiliated over her demeanor, hides her face in the dip of his shoulder. Just as she lowers her elbow, Cullen flinches as she touches his rib.

"Are you still hurt?" She sniffles and wipes at her swollen eyes with the edge of her sleeve.

"N-no...I'm fine. We should head back to camp..." The Templar tries to stand, but the little mage is quick, Amell pulls at his wrist and forces him to sit.

"Cullen, let me see." Her hands are cold against his skin as she begins to lift the hem of his shirt. Already, even in the dark, she can see the hint of dark bruising.

"R-really...I'm alright." Cullen tries to push her insistent hands away. "Just still a bit..uhm... tender, that's all."

"I don't believe you, that should almost be healed. Now stop being a baby and let me look." She looks to him with a raised eyebrow and he knows she means business.

"I-I don't know what you expect to find in the dark..." He turns his attention to the moonlight as Amell examines his ribcage. "And...hey! Your hands are deathly cold." His body jolts from the sudden icy contact. At once, his skin is covered in goose bumps as she continues to lift his shirt.

"Dear Andraste...Cullen...I think this injury is actually getting worse." Her brown orbs meet his own. "You need to see Thalia...I-I remember reading something, in the Lyrium books...how it changes a person's body..."

Sighing, Cullen pulls his shirt back down. "Really, my lady. I'm fine." Again, he tries to stand, this time all it takes is for Keira to push on his chest with her hand and he can't even budge. "Ow."

"See. Your strength is fading. Something is wrong."

He tries to grip her hand and she pushes him down further. "I-I...don't need everyone worrying about me. W-we have bigger concerns." He leans against his elbows, trying to push himself up, but fails. Breathing heavily through his nostrils, the Templar stares up at the little mage, unimpressed.

Clenching her teeth, Keira pushes a bit harder with her palm. "In the meantime, you are becoming a liability. Cullen, please, we need to get this looked after. You're no good dead you know. At this rate you won't even be able to swing your sword or lift your shield."

The Templar Knight is about to argue once more, when Thalia and Ty come into the clearing, laughing and conversing. As soon as Surana spots the duo in the grass, she knows something's amiss. Ty on the other hand, is completely oblivious and takes the scene in another way.

"Oh..uhm hey...Sorry, did you guys want some alone time?" The elven rogue wiggles his brow, causing the pair to scramble to their feet.

Thalia not even listening to Ty's comment, makes her way to Keira. "What's wrong? You've been crying..." Swiftly her gaze turns to Cullen. "What did you..."

"Thalia, he didn't do anything. Listen..." Keira shakes the elven mage from her mistaken rage. "Remember Cullen's injuries?"

"Yeah, me and Flemeth had them almost all healed, took a while. They did need to do some healing time on their own, but should almost..." Surana studies the Templar as he continues adjusting his shirt.

"Right, well. I think his injuries are either more severe then you thought, or they are not healing and getting worse." Amell's eyes fill with concern. "I think it partially has something to do with the Lyrium."

"Hmmm..." Thalia begins chewing at her inner cheek. "I can try healing him again. Do what I can for now. We might have to talk to Irving, maybe we can make a pit stop at the Tower after Redcliffe. Until then..."

Amell, looks over her shoulder to their Templar Guard. "Right...do what you can. I will continue to read, see what I can find out." Exhaling, Keira makes her way to Cullen and explains their strategy. To her surprise she actually manages to convince him to follow her back to the camp site where Thalia can properly assist him.

As the three head back, Ty remains by the water's edge. "You can come out now. Shem." The rogue tosses a few stones into the ravine. "I won't tell anyone you were spying."

Alistair stalks out from his cover. "I wasn't spying...I just happen to catch something of interest and decided to stay hidden." The former Templar clears his throat. "Totally different."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." The elf tosses his last stone, then turns to greet the tall man. "So anything worth sharing?"

Staring back at the path, Alistair tries to piece together what he saw. "Not sure. I'll have to get back to you on that."

* * *

Thalia goes through her pouches looking for new bandages and some poultices. Finding what she needs, she hands them to her human friend. "Keira, you really should help me with this. At least you'll learn a bit of healing while we are at it. We're not always going to be together, and knowing some basics might save someone's life." Thalia hands the other mage a few more supplies. "Plus, I need you in there, the only way I got his shirt off last time was because he was unconscious." The young elf snickers. "He seems to listen to you at least. Damn he's stubborn."

Balancing the items as they make their way to the Templar Knight's tent, Keira sighs. "I hope he cooperates."

"Don't worry, I have a solution. If he gives us a hard time, I'll threaten to send Morrigan in instead." Both girls laugh and enter the tent. "No time to worry about being polite, off with the clothes."

Horror stricken, Cullen stares at them wide eyed. "E-excuse me..."

"Good approach Thalia..." Keira rolls her eyes. Taking a seat next to his bed roll, Amell places a hand on his arm. "She needs you to take off your shirt." She tries to offer a warm smile, which she can understand if he doesn't appreciate after their recent quarrel. "We need to remove the bandaging and replace it."

"Oh...uhm...alright." As he removes his top, both women squint as they can now clearly see in this lighting, the true extent of his discoloration. "It only looks bad...I-I swear." To prove he's lying, Keira lightly pokes his ribs and he visibly shows signs of discomfort.

"Uh huh...lying...you're not good at it." Amell tisks and makes room for Thalia to sit beside her.

"Alright, sit up straight." Thalia explains in a sing song voice, and he does as he's told. "Keira, place your hands here." Surana places a hand on the middle of Cullen's chest and a light hand on his bruising. The elf then looks to the Templar. "I'm sorry, I'm teaching her to heal. You know, just in case we are ever separated or in need of another healer. So unfortunately, for today, you are my guinea pig."

"I-I don't mind." Cullen firmly shuts his eyes, and tries to pretend he's somewhere else.

"Now, Keira, close your eyes. Pretend that his blood is water, listen for it's current." Thalia begins to instruct, while placing her hands on either side of her friends. "His heart is like living earth, his lungs the wind and his soul the brightest of fires." Both mages take in a deep breath. "Now listen and tell me what you feel, what you hear and what you see."

Concentrating, Amell listens. There's an odd sound, like a gurgling in his heart and veins. "I...I hear...is that Lyrium?"

"Yes. You'll hear that a lot when healing Templars or dwarfs." The young elf encourages her friend to continue. "What else?"

The Knights heart beats with the strength of a drum, his lungs are filled with the sounds of wind, as if slowly passing over an empty field. Then she hears it again, the gurgling sound, this time louder. Like mud slowly trying to make it's way down a drain pipe, the Lyrium pushes it's way on through his system. "Do you hear that?"

"Yes I do." Thalia now places both her hands on Cullen's bruising and motions for Keira to do the same. "Now, healing isn't just a pretty light. You need to know your anatomy, how the body works. You need to focus your energy on controlling his organs, his vitals. We need to tell his body to send blood to that area so that it will heal itself. Now, you concentrate on that, I will prepare a poultice to put in his wrappings and a tea that should help him sleep. I will show you how to make both these things tomorrow."

Actually interested in learning, Keira shuts her eyes and concentrates once more. She focuses her green energy on giving Cullen's body commands. Sensing his body temperature rise, she decides to also conjure a small cooling spell. Hands now with a touch of ice, she continues her work, moving her hands along his injuries, watching in amazement as his dark black and purple bruising slowly turn to a green and yellowish tinge. "I'm actually doing it!"

Seeing the Templar's abdomen flex as she nears his pant hem, she decides to stop. "The bruising goes down to your hips." She says frankly.

"I-I know...but a man does have his limits, and you my lady, have reached them." Feeling a bit exhausted, Cullen's eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

Resting the back of her hand on the Knights forehead, Keira notices a spike in his temperature. "He's getting a fever again."

Thalia places a tea between Keira's hands. "That's alright. Just the body's way of letting us know that there is an infection. Get him to drink that, while I bandage his sides."

"You heard the lady." Amell hands the sleepy Cullen his mug of tea. "She's putting some cream on your ribs, it will help with the swelling."

Cullen accepts the drink and takes in its aroma. "This...actually smells good." Tilting his head back, he drinks the warm liquid back quickly. "Thank-you...my ladies..."

"He's tired, he needs to rest." Thalia squeezes her friend's shoulder. "So should you. I know for a fact that healing someone takes a lot of energy."

Keira pats the tiny hand resting on her shoulder and smiles warmly in her friends direction. "I will. I just want to make sure he stays asleep first." Amell grabs a blanket and gently tosses it over her patient and checks his fever one more time.

"You know, you always were the one to look after people when they were ill. Maybe because it was pushed on me so much, I never really took an interest into it as I should have." Gathering her ingredients, Surana looks to her friend, with pleading eyes. "Hey, you think, maybe soon you could teach me some Ice and Earth spells? Maybe even that yucky tea Wynne taught you?"

Surprised that the Tower's star pupil is actually coming to her for help, Keira can't help but feel some sort of excitement. "Of coarse Thalia! Anytime."

Satisfied with her patient's wrappings and progress, the elven mage decides it's time to grab a quick bite to eat, then head to bed. She places her belongings in her pack and leaves the tent. Keira runs her fingers through the sleepy Templar's hair. Knowing he's not fully asleep just yet, Amell decides to apologize for her behavior once more.

"I just want to apologize for my actions and the things I said to you once more. I can't believe I acted like that. I'm so sorry, Cullen." While running her fingers through his hair, the mage whispers a few words that cause her finger tips to go cold, hoping to soothe his fever somewhat. "I will always be grateful for everything that you have done for me and Thalia."

"Y-you're f-forgiven...it's alright." The Templar's eyes remain close.

"No it's not alright. That's was inappropriate, humiliating and disgusting. I had no right to subject you to something so...vial. Specially when you're one of the few men I've ever trusted...who's ever actually looked out for mine and Thalia's well being. It's not your fault that...the things that happened to me, happened the way they did...If anything, I should thank-you more often for the times you've helped me..."

"Don't. Please." The Templar grips the tiny hand playing with his hair.

"I'm sorry...I should know by now not to touch..." Keira shrugs her shoulders, realizing that she's once again trying to comfort a man who's not use to physical contact.

Shaking his sleepy head, Cullen squints his eyes at her, a bit confused. Glancing to his hands, he snorts. "Oh...uh not that...Just stop, reminding me...please..."

Laughing, Keira wraps herself in the spare blanket. "Of what, all the times you saved me from some..."

"No! Of all the other times I failed to...y-you and Thalia, have had to go on everyday living your life afraid. A-and now, you're both still doing the same..." Cullen shakes his head, disgusted with the world. "It's utterly maddening."

"Cullen..." She urges him to lie down. Getting stressed will only prolong his healing. "Please, you need to sleep."

"You should be angry with me...both of you...I should have been there..."

"Shhh...sleep." Keira begins running her fingers through his hair once more and that seems to calm him, but then the Templar tries to stir. However, the little mage quickly assures him that all is well and gets him to stay still. "Sleep."

Once he's breathing, long and deep breaths, Amell leaves his tent and sits near the fire. Everyone has seemingly gone to bed. Hearing the thump of a few logs hitting the ground beside her, the mage jumps. Briskly she turns to see Alistair piling some wood for the fire. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"Andrastes ass...what are you still doing up?" Amell recovers her arms with her linen and continues to stare at the bright flames.

"Uh well...we do have enemies about, someone has to stay up to watch for anything amiss." Alistair makes his way to the sitting log, takes a seat and attempts to warm his hands over the fire.

"Oh...right. Sorry. I'm still not use to all of this yet." Rubbing the back of her neck, Keira stretches it, hoping to ease the tension there. "I'm still not use to sleeping on the ground yet either."

Snickering, Alistair continues to rub his hands together. "Yeah, that does take some time." Seeing his face and demeanor grow withdrawn, Amell can't help but wonder what he's thinking. Then as if hearing her thoughts, Alistair sighs and faces her. "I need to tell you something. Remember what I said about...Arl Eamon?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : The disturbing conversation that takes place between Cullen and Amell was prompted when I realized earlier on that he would not be in the Tower when it's over run with blood mages. This is my way of kind of showing his attraction to her and the torment it represents. I hope I did well with that.


	7. Chapter 7 : Pasts Not Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Please continue to RnR!
> 
> Disclaimer : Bioware owns all this lovely stuff...accept my ideas, yup you got it, that's mine!

**Chapter 7 : Pasts Not Forgotten**

The morning air is crisp as the band of Wardens and their companions march towards Redcliffe. The wagon is packed, their bellies are full and their spirits are much higher then they were just a few days ago. Cullen decides that he likes the constant chatter of the voices behind him as he, Alistair and Keira continue to lead the way. This is unfamiliar to him, regular people, elves, dwarfs and mages all together, from all walks of life, just walking and talking. Peering over his right shoulder, he catches a glimpse of Thalia, chatting it up with two nobles. The Cousland siblings are happily walking along either side of her, teaching her proper every day etiquette that was expected of someone of noble birth. Then there's Sten, silent, massive and surprisingly very intelligent. The Qunari continues a debate with Morrigan and Leliana on a woman's proper place in the word. A debate that he does not realize he is quickly loosing.

To the very end of the line is Ty, who's happily keeping his wonderful new friend Sandal amused. The young dwarf claps and laughs as the elven rogue commands Kate's hound to do little tricks for pieces of dried meat. The Templar shakes his head, letting a small grin play across his face. Then he's suddenly interested with his current situation. Not only is he, a former Templar Knight, openly speaking with a mage, but he's helping her plot to bring down a nobleman. Not just any man, Teyrn Loghain, father to the wife of King Cailan. That's not all, they are trying to raise an army, to defeat a blight. Nothing to difficult. Lets not forget, the Bastard Prince Alistair who's probably next in line for the Throne, is actually the one who came up with this _'master plan'._

_Weird._

_This just keeps getting better and better._ But he has to admit, at least he's not bored to tears, standing in some corridor, in some dank hallway, alone, for hours on end, while who knows what is lurking in the dark waiting to...

"Cullen?" Amell's voice chimes in and he's suddenly brought back to reality.

"Uh...uhmm...yes?" The Templar shifts his armor.

"What do you think? Should we replenish our supplies first in the town, or should we seek out Arl Eamon right away?" The mage questions as they come to the bridge that crosses the water fall and leads to the village.

"Well...uhm..." Before he can even process the thought, they are greeted by a towns man who seems to be on guard.

"I thought I saw travelers coming down the road." The young man waves them over. "Though I scarcely believed it." Seeming relieved, his eyes brighten when he notices how heavily armed these new comers are. "H-Have you come to help us?" He asks, hope clearly in his voice.

A look of grim suspicion passes between Cullen and Alistair, both men are trained in the art of war, they know that this kind of question never really leads up to good news.

Keira takes a step forward, hoping that the presence of a woman would spook him less. "We're here on important business. We need to speak with Arl Eamon right away."

The young man's eyes widen with concern. "O-oh. Then..then you don't know? Has nobody out there heard?"

The mage glances back to the two former Templars then back to the frightened man. "We've heard that the Arl is ill, but that's it." She shrugs.

"He could be dead for all we know!" Clearly becoming more anxious, the young man begins to pace. "No ones heard from the Castle in days."

These words bother Alistair the most. The Arl really could be dead, not only would this be a personal blow, but in the big picture, not having the Arl could damage their efforts in building an army.

"We're under attack. Monsters come out every night and attack us till dawn. Everyone's been fighting...and dying." The young man crosses him arms and leans on the bridge, taking a deep breath he tries to explain the towns situation. "We've no army to defend us. No Arl and no King to send us help. So many are dead, and those who aren't, are terrified that they are next."

"So what is attacking you?" Alistair leans on the opposite side of the bridge.

"I-I don't rightly know...I'm sorry. Nobody does." Sighing the man straightens his posture and motions for the group to follow him. "I should take you to Bann Teagan. He's all that's holding us together. He'll want to see you." The young man begins walking down the narrow path, one that Keira remembers all too well.

"Wait, Bann Teagan? Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?" Alistair is shocked and relieved all at once.

"Yes, he's not far. Please, if you'd follow me."

* * *

Sitting on a barrel, outside of the old windmill, Kate looks to the lake. The sun has just begun to rise, the morning light spills over the hill tops and warms the darkness. The same darkness that just hours ago had brought with it terror and monsters. _It's still not enough,_ she tells herself. Nothing will make up for the loss of Highever, or Ostagar or Lothering. One night, saving a few people from a hoard of undead soldiers is not enough.

Her small tanned hand reaches to her face and lingers over a recent scar, one that she received in Highever, the night her family was murdered. Tiny fingers follow a thin line that stretches from the left side of her upper lip, to her bottom right lip. No matter how many towns they'll save or help, nothing will justify the lives lost, the pain felt, or the horrors that were seen. Hearing the thuds of heavy foot steps, the young woman turns to see her brother, who's smiling proudly. Squeezing her shoulder gently, he crouches down beside her.

"We did very well, considering..." The older sibling tries to ease the somber mood.

"I guess we did."

Staring at his sister fondly, Fergus opens his mouth with the intention on saying something then quickly shuts it. Catching this odd behavior from the corner of her eye, Kate raises her left brow.

"What?" She straightens her posture and adjusts her breast plate. "Do I look that bad?"

"No, no." Her brother snickers. "Not at all." He sighs and looks off into the distance. "I was just thinking...of how much you remind me of mother. You have the same hazel eyes and the same light brown hair. Even the way you're sitting." Grinning at how silly he thinks this all sounds, Fergus shakes his head. "Sometimes, when you call my name, or I hear you talking...I turn quickly, having to double check that you're not her."

"I-I..." Saddened, Kate returns her gaze to the scenery once more.

"It's not a bad thing, Kate." He takes her little hand into his own and kisses the top of her knuckles. "Even your skills in battle...remind me so much of her." Fergus pats the top of his sisters hand and places it back on her knee. "I think it's good...a nice way to keep her memory alive. When I feel saddened, all I have to do is look at you and I am reminded that my family lives on."

Using her index finger to wipe away a stray tear, Kate tries not to face her brother, knowing this will only cause her to break down. "You know you look just like our father..."

"I know." He nods. "Mother use to tell me all the time"

"So I guess we're both keeping their memories alive." Kate concludes, smiling profoundly at the thought.

"That we are sister."

* * *

It's dark, and everything about this place, feels wrong, this secret passage to the castle dungeons. Keira squints her eyes, whispers a few words and the torches on the walls light up. There's water dripping ever so slowly somewhere in the distance, the smell of mold and musk is almost overwhelming. The dust in the air, provided from the hay used as beds, adds to the uneasy feeling when trying to take a breath. Cullen continues to take the lead, while Keira, Morrigan and Leliana form the middle, with Alistair on the tail end.

Rounding a corner, the Templar leans in against the stone wall, seeing nothing of interest he continues on his way. Then something catches his attention, an undead being, stirring in an open cell. "Get ready!" He shouts.

Reacting, Keira conjures a spell to light her companions weapons with a protective flame. Morrigan shifts into the form of a giant spider, while Leliana sends arrows buzzing towards their opponents.

"They're behind us as well!" Alistair roars, as he sends down mighty blows with his shield and sword onto the undead creatures.

Seeing an enemy lurking behind the bastard Prince, Amell swiftly kicks up her staff, twirls it in her hand and strikes the monster with the blade end. Not missing her mark, she yanks her staff from the creatures skull. "Where did these guys come from?"

Spider Morrigan lurches herself up and onto the back of an undead being, she jabs at the monster with her fangs and it drops lifeless. "Does it really matter?" Her victim down, Morrigan jumps to another being.

Two monsters crawl out from under some hay stacks and speed towards the group. Acting on reflexes, Leliana grabs two arrows, licks some of their feathers, straps them in, pulls back her string and lets them sore. The arrows are sent buzzing right through the two creatures craniums and they drop lifelessly.

Cullen spots three undead soldiers coming from a set of stares, seeing his moment, he adjusts his shield, steadies his sword and bolts forward. Just as the monsters swing for his head, he slides down on one leg, and quickly stands behind the creatures. Surprised with his quick actions, the undead trio turn just in time to see the Templar rid them of their necks. The danger now gone, Morrigan transforms back into her human form and Leliana replaces her arrows back into her quiver.

"I think we got all of them." Cullen wipes of his blade with some random loose fabric. "Lets take a moment then..." The Templar glares over his shoulder with a raised brow, then gently pushes Keira and The Witch behind him. "Get back."

Seeing his distress, Amell quickly grabs hold of his forearm. "What is it?"

"Blood mage." Cullen whispers as he slowly and carefully makes his way to the very last cell.

"Cullen? Is that you?" A familiar voice chimes. "By all that's holy...I can't believe it!" At once, Amell knows this to be the voice of Jowan, and suddenly she feels sick. Supporting her weight on her staff, Keira trudges towards the cell. Seeing her obvious discomfort, Leliana looks to the mage concerned, but Keira only waves the bard off.

"I'm fine." The dark haired mage offers a quick smile, which Leliana returns. Making herself visible to the prisoner, Amell tries to put on a polite smile. "Jowan."

"Maker's breath!" Jowan takes a step forward and laces his fingers around the iron bars. "How did you get in here? I never thought I would see you again, of all people." And then he smiles, actually smiles in her direction, this more then anything else causes her stomach to feel that much more upset. He's behaving as though nothing has happened between them, that everything is as it was. Accept that he's in a pinch, yet again.

Exhaling slowly, attempting not to loose her patience with him, Keira tries to figure out what he's gotten himself into this time. "Jowan...what have they done to you?"

"What they'd do to all traitors, and would-be assassins. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent you to finish me off." He scoffs at her.

"Don't take that tone with me Jowan!" She points at him through his prison bars. Alistair and Leliana look at each other, completely lost as to what is going on. "Me and Thalia have gone through hell, once more, and this time because of you!"

The imprisoned mage's facial features drop. "Oh is that so? Looks to me that you're doing just fine for a back stabbing wench..."

"You're accusing me of backstabbing? ME!?" Loosing her temper, Amell reaches in and pulls on Jowan's robes so that his face is pressed against the bars.

"What did you think would happen to us when we escaped? Hmmm? Answer me. Did you think we would all go live happily in some little village somewhere?" Letting go of her hold on him, Keira relaxes and rests her forehead against the same bars. "Did you even think of us at all? Full appointed mages. Our blood sent to Denerim. Did you plan on eventually ditching us regardless? Hoping they would come for me and Thalia and loose sent of your trail?" A tear escapes her eye and lands on Jowan's knuckles.

"Tell me Jowan...did you really even take a moment to think?"

Leliana gently takes Keira by the hands and leads her to a pile of hay to sit and take a second to calm herself. Keeping the mage company, and cooing to her softly, the bard looks to the caged mage with disgust.

"I...I-I didn't know. Maker...I didn't think..." Jowan runs angry hands through his hair, sickened with himself.

"And yet, here I stand, not surprised." Cullen faces Jowan and closes in so that only the three men can hear what is being said. "Do you know what they did to her?" He continues to whisper. "After you left. Someone had to take the blame... someone had to pay for your actions." The Templar studies the selfish man's movements.

"No...n-no...I didn't mean for anyone..." Jowan pleads, almost begs, not wanting to hear what Cullen has to tell him. "Please...no..."

Alistair continues to listen as Cullen informs this idiot of what harm he has caused. While observing, he notices that Cullen's features become menacing.

"Tortured. For hours. Beaten. Lashed..." The Templar firmly shuts his eyes as he continues. "And that's not even the worse of it..."

"Andraste..." Jowan's eyes search for his former friend. Wanting forgiveness. Wanting to erase the past. Wanting to take it all back.

"You know how most men in that Tower looked at her. Talked of her." As quick as lightning, Cullen's hand is at Jowan's throat, squeezing. The mage doesn't struggle. "I found her...beaten, broken, barely conscious. Sprawled out...her clothing torn to shreds and bloodied as one of my brethren was about to..." Loosening his grip, the Templar release's the mage and lowers his gaze to the stone floor, unable to finish his tale.

"I-I hope you tore him apart..." The mage prisoner whispers while rubbing his throat.

"I broke his nose, some of his teeth and his jaw. He deserved much worse..." Cullen brings his eyes back to the mage before him.

Wide eyed, Alistair discovers a new appreciation for this Templar, he almost feels the need to pat Cullen on the back for a job well done. However, he knows that this fellow Templar only feels disgusted with himself. Knowing that if he would had arrived sooner, he could have stopped it all together. Then in an instant, Alistair's happy thought, turns to one of sorrow.

"As do I." Jowan admits. "You should kill me. For everything I've done."

"I'm not going to kill you..." Cullen begins to walk away.

"You might change your mind after what I have to tell you..."

* * *

"So what the hell are we going to do?" Ty questions his fellow Grey Wardens. He wasn't pleased with being left behind with the rest of the group when Keira and the others had went down through dungeons. Now, with the added bonus of this new information, the Arl's son being possessed, the Arl himself poisoned by Keira and Thalia's good friend. Not to mention all the undead buggers slaying the villagers. The young elf is starting to feel a bit stressed. "It feels like Lothering all over again."

"Ty calm yourself." Morrigan scolds him. "Your constant whining will help with nothing. You know the current plan as well as anyone else here."

"Yes I do...but it doesn't mean I have to like it." The rogue grips at the bow string across his chest. "Last time I was in Denerim...well...it didn't end well for me."

"We are all very well aware of this. However, that does not justify the fact that you are being childish." Morrigan coldly informs the elf.

"Whatever...childish my elven ass. Just remember, I warned you people..." Ty continues to follow the group, without saying another word.

Now on the road to Denerim, following a lead they had found in Ser Heneric's notes, Keira takes a moment to herself to reflect. Once they find brother Genitivi and figure out where he thinks this Urn of Sacred ashes could be located, they'll split into two parties. One will go to the Kinloch Tower, to convince the mages to help with Conor's situation and to persuade them into helping with the blight. If they refuse to join the army, the treaties will be in hand to remind them of their oath.

The other party will head to secure the Ashes, then return to Redcliffe to hopefully cure the Arl in time. Both parties will meet up in Redcliffe. Deciding that this had to be done was the easy part. Separating everyone here into two groups, not the best way Amell had pictured herself spending her day. Kinloch Tower party is going to be led by Kate, much to her big brother's disapproval. Fergus is of coarse joining his sister on this quest. Thalia is also going and is the perfect pick for asking Irving and Greagoire for help. Keira is convinced that it's a good idea that she and Cullen won't be present for this errand. Also tagging along are Morrigan, to her great disapproval, Leliana, who's torn between wanting to see The Tower and wanting to see Andraste's final resting place, and of course Kate's hound.

Team Ashes consist of Amell, Cullen, Sten, Alistair and Ty. Since the other group has the luxury of knowing where they are headed already and it not being that long of a journey, Keira had decided that it would be best if Bodahn and Sandal traveled with them. The dark haired mage doesn't need to ask, to know that Cullen feels some sort of turmoil with having to disturb the Ashes of the Maker's Bride. Or that he's more then not happy with one of his charges being sent away from him. Sten, she figures, could care less either way. Alistair wants to save both the Arl and Connor. And Ty, just like Alistair, is probably best separated from Morrigan.

Lost in her thoughts, Keira continues on the path to Denerim. Then the group stops its march when a woman in tattered clothing comes running over a grassy hill.

"Oh thank the Maker!" The woman jogs up to them quickly. "We need help...T-they attacked the wagon. Please help us!" The woman pleads. The mage looks to her comrades, they all nod, turning her attention back to the woman, Amell motions for her to show them the way.

"Alright, follow me. I'll take you too them." The woman takes off back over the little hill with the group just a few feet behind her.

"Something feels off." Fergus whispers.

As they slowly follow the woman, Cullen notices something, the attackers that the woman had describe were waiting for them. "Trap!"

A tanned elf pats the woman on the shoulder and side steps her. Smiling, he signals for his men to attack. A giant tree suddenly falls behind the group, barricading them in, while the soldiers flank them from either side.

"Get behind us." Cullen instructs his charges as he, Alistair, Sten and Fergus take up the front line.

"Cullen..." Keira tries to argue, but it doesn't work.

Glancing over his shoulder quickly, the Templar lowers his voice. "Berate me about it later. Now is not the time. So just do it."

Nodding, both woman do as they are told. Keira shuts her eyes and concentrates, allowing all of her friends weapons to catch flame. Her eyes quickly open, she flexes her arms and is then covered in a suit of rock armor. Thalia catching on to this new strategy, casts an aura over her companions, hoping this will give them all more energy and endurance. While the middle and front line prepare, Kate, Leliana and Ty take on the defense at the rear, readying their bows.

"This should be interesting." Ty grins as he licks the tail of one of his arrows. "Morrigan, you should get to the middle." He motions with his brow for her to join the other mages.

"I'd rather not." With that said, the witch transforms herself into a wolf and howls.

"Game on." Ty says in a low voice. "All bets are on us." His fingers let go of the bow string.

* * *

Completely unsettled with Keira's thought process regarding their most recent crew member, Alistair and Cullen pull the mage aside. Cullen drags the mage by the arm off to the side of the road, with Alistair following not too far behind.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Alistair blurts out with his hands on his hips, frustrated beyond belief. "You want to take the assassin with us now? Does this really seem like a good idea?"

Shrugging off the Templar's grip, the mage dusts off her robes then looks at both men sternly. "Look...do you see a line up of people trying to help us out with the blight?"

Sighing, and feeling a bit sheepish, Alistair rubs the back of his head. "I...well, no. I suppose we can use whatever help we can get. Still, if there was a sign that we're desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello." Snickering, he turns his back to her and glares at the Antivan Elf, Zevran. The Assassin from an Assassins guild called the Antivan Crows, is calmly chatting with Leliana and Ty, with all the ease, familiarity and false pretense that he belongs here.

"We could apparently use a good swift kick in the head too, but you don't see me going around asking for one." The former Templar crosses his arms, unconvinced with this newcomers little charade.

"Do get over it." The mage smacks the bastard prince quickly in the back of the head.

"Ouch! Hey that hurt." Alistair returns his attention to the other two people standing with him. Seeing their gaze, with raised eyebrows, he shrugs his shoulders. "What? It did."

Rolling her eyes, Amell leans her staff against a near by tree. Cold, she rubs her hands together. "Alright, lets get somethings straight here." Keira blows into her palms, hoping to warm them up. "None of you big strong men have taken charge, unless it's in the middle of a battle. I figured I'd save everyone some trouble and make the hard decisions. So far, everyone has seemed to be just fine with that."

The mage rubs her tiny hands together once more. "Now unless one of you want to take the reigns and do it any differently, I suggest you both stop complaining." Her eyes stare at both men, waiting for an answer. "No takers? Fine. So we continue the way it's been going and you two can stop hounding me. Unless that is...you want me to start giving orders in battle too...because lets face it, I'm not exactly experienced in that sort of thing." Keira begins to rub at her upper arms.

Both men look to each other, then to the chilled mage. "Keira, did you happen to pack or buy any warm clothing?" Cullen asks, knowing full well that she had bought a few sets of different clothing when they first started their travels with Duncan.

Looking to the men confused, she shrugs her shoulders. "Yes. Why?"

"You seem a bit...well chilled. And it's not that cold out." Alistair points out.

Sighing, the mage retrieves her staff. "I get cold...when my mana is low. Wynne told me once that mages feel the drain of their energy and mana in different ways." Pulling her shall from her pack and draping it over her shoulders, she continues. "When my mana is low, I get cold...probably because I focus on Primal and Elemental castings. Thalia, when she's weak...she becomes very drained of energy, to the point where she's almost sleeping. Because I'm learning to be a healer as well, she says that my energy levels will probably drop off and on."

"Uhm...right. Good to know." Feeling uneasy, Alistair clears his throat. "All that aside...where should we set up camp next?"

"I would like to make camp before sun down." Cullen suggests. "We've all had a long day...I-I might even suggest that we take two days to...never mind..." The Templar shakes his head.

"That's actually a good idea." Keira tightens her shall around her shoulders and studies the people in their group. Not one of them has had any down time and not one of them has complained about it.

"No, no...it was a stupid suggestion...we have an army to build and a blight..." Cullen continues to try to justify his mistake.

"They need a break Cullen, we all do. Blight or no...morale is what wins battles." The mage turns her attention back to Alistair. "Where's the next clearing that's closest to water?"


	8. Chapter Eight : Fork in The Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Just want to thank everyone who's been reading ;) And I'm really happy to see that everyone is enjoying the multi origins as much as I am. 
> 
> Disclaimer : Bioware owns Dragon Age. Still not mine. Boooo.

**Chapter Eight : Fork in The Road**

This night was _suppose_ to be relaxing. There was _suppose_ to be some down time for everyone. Even a growing army needs some time to rest and regain its strength. The Maker, it seems, has a sick sense of humor.

As they had continued their journey to Denerim, the small group had come across a farmers field, where the bodies of several dozen refugees lie scattered, hacked and torn to pieces.

Now, this night that was suppose to be one of repose, is instead filled with the sounds of battle. Blades swing through the air, only to meet with another. Arrows buzz by and sink into its target with a deafening thud. A war hound growls and attacks on command. The howl of a magic wolf is heard as it corners its prey. Earth trembles as an elven mage posses it and instructs it to crush her foes. Thunder is heard and the air becomes electric as another mage sends a crack of lighting against her enemies.

"Try not to light any of the hay or the dry grass on fire!" Alistair shouts as he clashes blades with a Hurlock. Seeing his enemy trip, Alistair kicks out his foot striking his opponent in the jaw. Twirling his wrist, he makes one clean swipe and relieves the Dark Spawn of it's head. "This entire area could go up and flames!"

Sensing the urgency behind his statement, Keira begins to call on the north winds, hoping to cool the area with a cold winters grasp. Seeing this and wanting to learn, Thalia follows suit. The elven mage focuses her magics on the flames of a near by blazing wagon. Her power in the elements nowhere near as advanced as her friend's, she decides to continue managing the smaller fires and casting her small earth hexes. However, from the corner of her eye, the elf can see her friend's anger beginning to rise.

"Arrows!" Fergus points toward the fence line with his sword and at his command, the rogues of the group send their arrows sorrowing. The arrows fly by him with perfect aim, as he charges forward.

Seeing the line of enemies and those hidden in the forest, Amell directs her magic in their direction. She drops her staff, finding it easier to control her spell with out it. "Freeze." The mage whispers. Her eyes begin to take on an eerie white glow as her power grows and her tiny spell mutates into that of a winters blast. "Freeze you bastards." She whispers.

Feeling the cold wind catch up to him, Fergus stands aside to let the little mage continue her assault. "Maker..."

Cullen is at the far side of the farm land when he catches sight of what's taking place. He pulls his sword from his fallen foe and notices everyone else staring at the same thing. As the anger within the mage continues to grow, so does the magnitude and the power of her icy spell. Snow and hail slowly begin to swirl around Keira as her form slowly begins to float off the ground. Palms up, her fingers quickly outstretch towards the freezing and dying enemies.

"Freeze!" Her eyes glow brighter.

Having seen enough, Cullen jogs towards the raging mage. "Fall back Keira!" He tries to sound as commanding as possible.

"Keira, please...you need to stop." Thalia pleads with her friend. "They're dead."

Their words seem to have no effect on her. Amell continues her onslaught, her eyes void of any emotion. Her lip curls into an angry snarl and she presses on. The now frozen bodies of the Dark Spawn, begin to crack. The wind howls, as a few of the frozen limbs begin to fall apart.

"Cullen, she's not listening! You need to smite her!" Alistair bellows from just a few feet away.

"Mage Amell!" The Templar readies his stance. "Cease your actions. Call off your spell."

The wind begins to become more violent and begins to affect almost everyone near by. The swirls of ice and snow around her gain speed and mass. Her glowing white eyes never leave the crumbling and cracking bodies before her.

Alistair shields his eyes with this forearm as he makes his way next to Cullen. "Smite her, damn it! Or I will!"

Rolling his shoulders, Cullen lowers his gaze and speaks in a low voice. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?!" Realizing his fellow Templar's problem, Alistair nods. "Right." Taking a deep breath, Alistair concentrates. "Thalia, you might want to back away."

Understanding his meaning, Surana makes sure to back up far enough so that she's not affected with what he's about to do. "She's clear." Cullen informs. "And I'm ready."

Nodding, Alistair quickly closes his eye lids and allows his body to release a blast of energy that quickly robs the out of control mage of all our power. Cullen drops his weapons to catch the unconscious Keira just as she falls from her floating state. The winds die down, the hail and snow no longer fall from the clouds and the atmosphere takes on a quiet somber mood.

"What in Andraste's name..." Kate pants out as she makes her way towards the men. "Was that suppose to happen?"

"No." Both men blurt out. Alistair and Cullen share a worried look.

"She's frozen to the core it seems." The Templar adjusts her sleeping form in his arms.

Getting closer to examen Amell, Alistair pushes her frost bitten hair aside and frowns when he sees her face. She's completely white, all of her skin, white. _She's always been pale, but ivory white?_ Not that he can recall. Her lips are pale, almost blue, and her eyebrows and lashes are covered in ice. He places his sword under his arm and holds it there. Using his teeth to pull his leather glove off, Alistair exposes the warm skin of his hand. Looking up to meet Cullen's gaze, he then drops the back of his hand lightly against her left cheek.

"Maker's breath, she's freezing." He pulls his hand away and picks up the other Templar's discarded equipment. "We need to get her warmed up and Thalia needs to look her over." Seeing that all eyes are now on him, Alistair realizes he's got to take charge for the moment. "We have to move. We can't afford to stay here. There's a clearing, not far away."

As much as it pains him, he decides to send the new arrival up ahead. "Zeveran and Ty..." But not alone, he decides. "I need you two to scout up ahead. If all is clear, build a fire, that will be our signal." Sheathing his own sword, he then places Cullen's weapon and shield on Bohdan's wagon. "Fergus, Sten and Morrigan, I want you three taking up the rear. Thalia stay with Cullen, keep an eye on Keira. Leliana I need you to keep pace with them as well. As for myself and Kate, we'll take the lead."

"You are going to take the mage with us?" Sten inquires flatly.

"Yes."

"Why?" Sten asks once more.

"What do you mean why? Of coarse we are." Alistair shakes his head and begins to march.

"Even after she almost destroyed us all." Again, a flat non committed tone from the Qunari.

Alistair and Cullen exchange glances once more. Although, she could have easily killed them all quickly and they know it, she didn't. Her full attention and anger was only directed at their enemies. Can they really chastise her for that?

"Yeah but she didn't. End of story. Lets move." Alistair signals with his chin for the wagon to advance. "This is not up for discussion again."

Grunting, Sten does as he's told and continues to follow the group.

* * *

The fire is blazing, the tents are all set up. Everyone is busying themselves with something, either cooking, dueling, gathering herbs or mending wounds. Everyone is trying to forget the sights and smells of the farm they had come across. All those dead people, mutilated, decaying. A caravan of refugees who had been trying to find safety, only to come across a nest of dark spawn.

Just off to the side of the camp, in the shadows, the two former Templars try to make sense of everything. "Alright, I get it. At least I think I do. She's pissed, tired and stressed. So she had an outburst." Alistair can't help but let his eyes linger over his shoulder to the tent that houses Keira's sleeping form. "But what confuses me the most is you."

Cullen's taken aback. "W-what? Why?"

"You didn't smite her." Alistair brings his attention back to the man in front of him.

"I-I told you that I couldn't. I haven't been taking Lyrium since Highever." Cullen stares, kind of confused.

"I see...I thought..." Alistair rubs his chin.

"W-what?"

Alistair snickers. "Never mind... You think I've been using since I left the Order? Nope. Not one drop." He puffs out his chest, proud.

"What? H-how is this possible?" Cullen sits on a large log, resting his elbows on his knees, he laces his fingers together and begins to think. Backtracking, his mind races through his memories, trying to see if he forgot some teachings, some techniques...

"It's not something they taught...The Chantry likes having a leash on their most prized possessions." Alistair clears his throat. "I...can teach you. If you want."

"I-I...I don't know what to think..." Cullen shakes his head in his hands, agitated.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Let me know when and if you decide to...It's not easy, knowing you've been lied too all this time." The bastard prince turns on his heel and heads for the camp.

* * *

Seeing the elven mage alone by the fire, Fergus decides to take a seat next to her. "How's she doing?" He looks over the tent as he sits down.

Sighing, Thalia tosses a bit of the grass she had been playing with into the flames. "She's fine. She's freezing. Other then that she's fine." Looking up to the stars, as if searching for answers she lets out a puff of air and turns her attention back to the grass. "All of her vitals are fine. She's just...so angry and so tired."

"Well maybe a good knock out is what she really needed for some proper rest." The eldest Cousland tries to sound as convincing as possible.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"She's got a lot weighing down on her. And now splitting us up into two groups. Having to part ways with her best friend, not knowing if she'll see her again. I may be just some guy that hardly knows either of you...but the bond which you two share, is unmistakeable."

"We've always had a sisterly relationship...and I know she's scared of loosing me, just as much as I am of loosing her. And we've both been through so much..." Again the little elf sighs. "But now, joining the Grey Wardens has changed everything...the possibilities for us are endless. And I'm afraid that maybe... it might be more then we can handle."

Chuckling, Fergus squeezes Thalia's shoulder. "That my lady, I doubt."

Managing a genuine smile, Surana laughs and tosses more grass into the fire. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see." Now, wanting to be a pain in side, Thalia brings up something rather uncomfortable. "So, how do you think you'll handle being under your sister's command."

Holding a fist to his chest, Fergus feigns pain. "My lady, you sting with such foul language."

* * *

Early the next morning, Alistair begins his rounds of awaking those whom are still asleep. Glancing over the encampment, he spots Thalia mixing a tincture. "Is she awake?" He asks in a hushed tone.

"Yes. She's in the field...don't ask me why. But that's where she told me she was going."

Shocked, Alistair is just about to ask the mage more questions, when he spots Amell sitting amongst the wild flowers, and her guardian not too far away, protectively standing watch.

"Do you think she'll..." There's no nice way for him to word it, so instead he grimaces, hoping Thalia will understand.

"Not sure to tell you the truth." She tightens the lid to her mixture's jar and shakes it vigorously. "I've never seen her like that before." Placing the tincture in her sack, she gathers up the rest of her things and packs them away. "They've been out there for hours. She's probably just preparing herself for the day. Trying to keep her emotions in check and what not..."

"Right...well lets hope she'll remain stable..." Alistair tightens his belt around his waist and then lets out a sharp whistle, trying to signal Cullen in the fields. "We're moving out soon." Seeing the other man nod, Alistair turns to his other duties.

* * *

"I can't believe he had to smite me...Maker I feel horrible. How did I let it go that far? He should have put me down." Keira stretches as she comes to a full stand.

A bit disturbed, Cullen lets his stare linger on the sunrise. "Don't talk as if you are just some common... beast."

"I'm starting to think that the Chantry is right about us...maybe... we do all deserve to be locked away..." The mage pulls the dead grass from her robes and then dusts off her knees.

"Lets...lets go. They probably need our help." Cullen motions for her to follow.

"What if they are afraid of me?"

The Templar raises a brow. "Most...usually are. You're not use to that by now?"

Surprised at his bluntness, Keira places her hands on her hips. "You got something to say...then by all means..."

Rolling his eyes, the Knight takes a few steps closer to her. "I don't...mean anything by it...I-I'm only stating the obvious."

"Oh." She taps her foot. "Well then, answer me this. Are _you_ afraid of me?" She points to herself, and then shifts her weight, nervous of his answer.

"No." He answers without hesitation or even a stutter.

"Why not? And even if you were how would I know? It's not like you or anyone else would tell me." The mage claps her hands together, frustrated.

Cullen begins to walk away. "If I was...afraid, my lady... I-I would have killed you by now." He admits over his shoulder with great chagrin as he continues to walk away.

* * *

Amell tries to quickly catch up to Alistair who's a the very end of their little caravan. He seems miles away as she jogs up beside him. "Alistair..." She pants.

"Oh hey." He puts on a smile. "Feeling better?"

"Uh...yeah. Peachy. Listen." The mage's fingers tighten on her staff. "I just wanted to apologize..."

"You want to apologize to me? The guy that gave you the nice migraine. Wow. This... is different." He beams. "Don't expect the same thing from me if you..."

"Well you wouldn't have had to take such precautions, if I would have had more control over myself." The color in her face drains with embarrassment.

Alistair senses her tension. "Really, it's fine. See being a Grey Warden is different... We're not here to judge one an other. We're here to stop a blight. If that means I might have to smite you every now and then...well...then it has to be done. So long as you don't take it out on me later with some sort of freezing spell in areas I wouldn't appreciate...uhh...that is, I don't have anything for you to freeze...well I do...but well..." He can feel the heat rising to his cheeks and he attempts to cool himself down by stretching his shirt collar.

"It's called winters grasp. Well at least that's what we were taught it's called." The mage snickers.

"Right..." The Prince clears his throat. "So not to be rude or intrude or anything...but why did that spell seem so much more powerful then the other winter spells I've seen other mages do?"

Keira adjusts her shawl. "I have this tendency to...well tinker with magics. Always got in a load of trouble for it too."

"I see. So that's why it's so..." Alistair lifts his hands palms up, his face holding a serious expression, trying to imitate her casting stance.

"Intense. Yes." She answers and her lips form a tight smile.

"Uh huh...and Thalia and Cullen know of ..." He looks ahead, down through the group at the other Templar and his other charge. "Your tinkering?"

"Yes." She answers ashamed. He senses that there is more there to know then what she is telling him, but decides not to press her for answers, yet.

"So we're heading to Denerim. You know...I have a sister there."

"Really?" Lelianna chimes in. "What is she like?"

"I'm not sure to be honest. All I have is a name and an address."

* * *

The Gnawed Noble, a tavern for nobility and for those who can afford the rooms. Keira is hoping that resting here will raise her companies morale, since they weren't able to get some time off prior to arriving here. Also, it's location is ideal, it's kind of central and near the market. So once they find all the info they need, they can easily stock up and leave. She had an awful time haggling for prices on the six rooms she requested. Fergus had to step in and take over. In the end, thanks to the Cousland's bartering skills, they ended up with six rooms at less then a fair price. Keira had offered one to Bohdan and his son, but he respectfully declined, insisting on selling his cart of goods in the market while he was there.

So that left her with more rooms then needed. Each room came supplied with two beds, hot bath water every evening and three meals a day. _Not bad, not bad at all Fergus._ The first room, Keira gave to Cullen and Alistair, the second to Ty and Zev, since they seem to get along quite well. The third to Leliana and Kate, the fourth to Morrigan, because honestly no one wanted to bunk in the same room. The fifth went to Fergus and Sten, and the very last one down the hall, Keira had set aside for herself and Thalia.

"Do we really have to stay here? My dear Warden, I've already explained that we could probably stay for free at the Pearl." Zeveran tries to sway the mage into a different train of thought. "Plus there is much...shall we say...distractions there for those who wish to partake." Zev wiggles his eyebrow in the direction of the two former Templars.

Rolling his eyes, Alistair pushes past the annoying Antivan.

"Ohh. Looks like someone really needs a way to relieve some tension." Zeveran continues to tease, Alistair only growls and continues on his way towards his room.

"Zev, I appreciate the thought. But, the rooms here are already paid for...if you want, you can head over there yourself..."

"Oh, my lady, you offend. How can I leave when there is such beauty to be seen here. Hmm?" Quickly the sly elf plucks the mage's hand from her side and places a gentle kiss on the top of her hand, which she quickly pulls from his grasp.

"Don't do that again." Amell marches pass him, her hands in tight fists by her sides.

"She doesn't like to be touched. So, do as she says. Or I'll be forced to deal with you myself." Cullen towers over the Crow, trying to seem as menacing as possible.

Allowing his words to slowly roll off his tongue, Zeveran lifts his brow in a seductive manner. "Do tell me Templar Knight, would you be rough?"

His cheeks and brow now flaming red, Cullen stalks past the rogue and down the hall.

"Hmmm...I bet you'd like it rough. Specially on your first go." The elf studies his finely manicured nails and doesn't have to look back at the Templar to know that he stopped dead in his tracks, cursed and continued on. Grinning the Antivan heads towards the bar.


	9. Chapter Nine : Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer : I do not own any Bioware Characters.

**Chapter Nine : Different**

Smoked ham, stewed beef, fresh bread and several different cheeses are just some of the food spread across the main table in the dinning hall, the aromas are all warm and inviting. The small group is heard discussing the past few weeks events as the staff carries in their order of ales and wines.

"Out of all the food that's here...you're pigging out on the cheese?" Kate lifts a brow in Alistair's direction.

The bastard Prince swallows down a large gulp of his ale. "Why not? Have you ever seen such a variety? I know I haven't." He holds out a piece of holy cheese in front of her face. "This is odd looking...but it's amazing!"

Sipping on her mug of wine, she pulls away from the bizarre diary product. "I'll take your word for it."

"Suit yourself." He stuffs another piece of bread and dairy into his mouth and notices the elven mage doing the same. Catching her attention, by waving a large chunk of parmesan, he smiles and offers a thumbs up. The little elf giggles and continues with her meal.

Again, the doors to the area fly open and the staff members enter carrying in trays of fruit, desserts and more ale. Lush grapes and apples, baked pies and small cakes, a lot of these baked goods Keira and Thalia have never even heard of before. Another woman carries in a tray of small candied fruit and pastries.

"Wow." The dark-haired mage gathers a piece from everything she thinks might be tasty and heads to the far end of the table, where she can continue her readings in peace. It's been a while since she's been able to just sit and jot down notes from her studies. She turns a page in her ancient book and regards the next chapter with wonder, 'Lyrium and Its Effects on The Body'.

As the mage continues to read, the rest of the group continues to drink and eat. Every once in a while, an old man would come in and restock the fireplace with more wood. And every time, Cullen would toss him a few coins.

"You're... awful kind for a Templar." Ty hiccups.

Raising his brow and grinning Cullen takes a swig of his drink. "Was I suppose to be rude?"

"Nah...just...well thought you lot were kind of...you know..." The elf make a twisting motion with his index finger. "Up tight."

"Uh...well...not all of us." Cullen clears his throat and studies the now, really intoxicated Alistair and shakes his head. "And some...well are a little too loose." He snickers.

"Sure...hey...you know what I just noticed..." Ty takes a very big, dramatic, wet gulp of his ale. "You're drinking!"

"Really? I didn't notice." The Templar places his now empty mug aside and notices Ty trying to count all the empties.

"And the worst part...you've had more than me...and I'm far better of worser then you, Templar...guy." The elf wipes his mouth with the back of his forearm. "That's kind of crappy...considering you don't really drink..."

The Templar Knight laughs. "I...drink...sometimes."

"Uh huh...name me...how." Ty mutters.

"You mean when?" He sees the rogue nod. "Lots of times, but I pace myself, that's the trick."

"Uhmm...right..." An evil grin plays across the elf's face. "You haven't gotten up and about yet have you?"

"No...why?"

Slapping his Templar friend on the back, Ty lets out a belch. "When you do..." He breathes into the other man's face, who turns away disgusted. "You'll feel it." Suddenly, Ty jumps to his feet, teeters a bit, then motions for Cullen to do stand. "Come on."

Cullen surveys the room.

"No one is paying attention. Now get up! Mister...guy!" Ty continues to wave his hands about, trying to get the large man to stand.

"Fine...just...stop that. You look...odd." The Templar uses the large table for support as he comes to a stand. Then, he feels it. The spinning and the sudden urge to just sit back down and drink.

"Ha! I knew it." Ty again slaps his large friend on the back. "Alright, time for another round!"

As the dinning area continues to grow loud, Keira continues reading and eating her bits of cake and candies. Then she has this feeling of being watched, lifting her eyes from her book, she spots Alistair, he's tracing the back of her book with his finger. "What you doing?"

"Uhm...reading." Which she continues and tries to ignore the drunken man in front of her.

"You should stop that and drink with us." He tries to convince her, but fails.

"No thanks." She places another candied fruit into her mouth and sips at her tea.

Alistair pulls down her book and closes it. "Come on. We're all drinking...some of us are well...sleeping..." They look over the room to see Fergus passed out on the table, and Ty passed out leaning against Cullen.

Shaking her head, Keira picks up her book once more. "Someone has to remain sober."

"You know, that's exactly what she said you would say..." He glances down the table to see Thalia chatting away with Kate, who's hound is now licking all the plates clean.

"I see." The mage clears her throat and tries to ignore the man once more. "I don't like drinking."

Raising his hands in surrender, and feeling a bit too drunk, Alistair backs away and heads back to the end of the table. Rolling her eyes, Keira tries to regain her concentration. She continues to read until the room is almost dead silent and the candles are almost all burnt out. The only illumination in this room, is that of the slowly dying fire embers. The mage tilts her head from side to side. Studying the room, she notices that just a few people remain awake. Alistair and Cullen seem to be in some deep, low-voiced conversation, while Thalia lies sleeping, curled in a ball on the small bench with what seems to be Cullen's cloak. The mage places her books back into her pack and makes her way towards the elf.

"And see, that's what I'm getting at..." Cullen notices Keira about to wake up the elven mage. "Oh, I covered her... she fell asleep."

Nodding a quick thank-you, Amell turns back to Thalia. "Sweety, you need to get to bed."

The white-haired mage, yawns and rubs her eyes. "Wow, they are still up."

"Looks like." Keira smiles warmly. As she's about to make her way towards the two Templars, she stumbles on something. Something that 'oofs' when she hits it. "Oh. Fergus. What are you doing down there?"

"Kate said that he was too big for her to lift up the stairs...and well Sten...well...yeah...and I don't think anyone would want to be alone with Zev." Alistair chuckles.

"You guys couldn't bring him to his room?" Keira asks, a bit annoyed.

"Nah...we're too drunk. Sorry." Alistair chokes out as he chugs down more of his now warm ale.

Surana grasps the mug from the Prince. "Alright, enough of that." She says firmly. "Now, go get some sleep." She begins to tug at his arm.

"Uh...not yet." He waves her off, feeling nauseous. "Help Fer...Fer..." He places his forehead in his hand and motions for her to hand him the near by bucket. Which she does, quickly.

"Got it. Fergus. Up you go." The healer makes her way toward the sleeping Cousland and tries to peel him from the floor.

Not having to wretch after all, Alistair helps the tiny mage lift the massive bulk of a man. "I can help, but then I need some air." He puffs.

Keira watches as they slowly lead Fergus to his room. She then turns to see the Templar Knight, still seated, staring at his empty mug with a puzzled look on his face. "Cullen?" He doesn't acknowledge her, so she exhales loudly and makes her way towards the edge of the table. "Hey, you alright?" She asks while taking his glass from him.

The Templar pulls his hands away and rubs at his eyes. "Maker, what time is it?"

"Late." Keira gestures for him to rise. "Come on. I'll help you."

"I'm f-fine..." He staggers and knocks over a few logs by the fire pit.

"Yeah, and I'm Andraste herself." Placing her hand in the crook of his arm she leads him back to his room. "Where's Alistair..." She looks around and sees no sign of him.  
Flicking her wrist, a candle on the mantel lights up. "That's better." She smirks. "Alright, you can enter now. It's not dark anymore."

But the Templar doesn't move, he continues to lean against the support of the door frame, and continues scowling.

"Come on now." The mage ushers gently and again leads him by the arm. Her smile fades when she notices that Cullen's mood still seems dark. "What's wrong?"

The Knight sighs and tries to remove his boots while standing. "Everything." He scoffs.

"Anyway you can narrow that down?" Amell holds out her hands, trying to steady the large man as he continues to remove his other boot.

Finally rid of his last boot, he tosses it aside harshly, which startles the little mage. "Well...let me see...being lied to practically all my life...yup..." He steadies himself against the wall and laughs. Placing a hand on his hip, he smiles broadly. "D'you know I can...woah..." He almost falls from his place against the stone. "That I can still use my Templar skills without any Lyrium?"

"What? Really? Why haven't you been taught that?" Keira takes a step forward.

The Templar shrugs his shoulders and laughs. "Kind of makes one think...of everything...maybe all their teachings was...was..."

"A lie." She finishes for him and he points at her happy that she figured out his missing word.

"Right!" Exhaling, he paces. "D'you know that I've never...never..." He tilts his head from side to side. "You know...with a woman..." He feels a bit ashamed knowing he can't even use the proper terms for fear of sounding like a fool. "All for the good of the Chantry...a sin..."

Rolling his shoulders he takes a few steps closer to the dark-haired mage. "I've never disobeyed...never..."

"You're a good man." Amell tries to calm him.

"Maybe." Stepping closer, he wraps an arm around her waist and he can feel her muscles tense. "I've always wondered what it would be like, to love and to be loved. What it would be like to have a family...but pretended that I couldn't be bothered with those thoughts...according to the Chantry, lying with a woman would have me struck down by lightning..." He chuckles at this now silly thought.

"It's always been a curious thing to me...to wonder how soft a woman could feel, but never act upon it." Gently, he drags a thumb down her cheek.

"Cullen..." Keira grabs at his forearm, gently trying to push him away, knowing he's not himself.

"Always...wondered, what long beautiful hair would feel or smell like." Gingerly, he bends low and takes in the scent of her hair. "See...pleasant. Like wildflowers and cinnamon." He smiles warmly and carefully runs his fingers along her long strands.

"Cullen..." Amell places her palms on his chest and again pushes gently.

"I've never even...even..." His face is close to hers and he feels her body go rigid. "Kissed...anyone...But I would never...could never...force myself on anyone. Never..." He pulls away. "And now I've gone and frightened you."

"You didn't frighten me...made me feel a bit uncomfortable, sure. Cullen I would have iced you, had I been afraid."

He lowers his gaze, drunk and ashamed. "I'm sorry my lady...if...if I offended you. Even...intoxicated...I could never harm... _any_ of you... I'm just so... _angry_...if every thing they've been teaching me is a lie..."

"Then what's that say about what they've told you about mages." Keira places a hand on his shoulder.

The Templar clears his throat and sits at the edge of his bed. "I-I really don't know what to think... or believe anymore..." He stares at his bare feet, that are firmly placed on the wooden floor boards. "It feels like...like I've lost so much time...I don't know..." He quickly runs his fingers through his hair and over his face. "Do I sound mad?" He looks to her, wide-eyed.

"Not at all." Seeing him seem so broken and lost, Keira's heart goes out to the poor man. She feels his pain, she's shared these same feelings before. The feeling of being lost and without purpose.

Not saying a word, she makes her way to him, and abruptly places her soft palms on either side of his face. Before he can oppose her actions, she plants her lips firmly against his. His body stiffens, and he strongly pulls at her hold on him.

"What are you doing?" He asks perplexed while trying to back away.

"Giving you your fist kiss." The mage doesn't allow him time for questions. Closing the gap between them once more, she feels his body relax and he gives in. One of his hands clasps tightly around her forearm while the other combs through her hair. A rough groan in his throat forms as she tries to deepen their kiss. Placing a hand over his chest, she can feel his heart racing. Softly, she pushes her tongue into his mouth. He marvels at how she tastes like the candied fruit she'd been eating earlier. His breathing quickens, and he can feel his hands wondering to her shoulder blades and the small of her back, pressing her to stand between his legs. Her hands are in his hair and are gradually dragging down the length of his neck. Just as a moan escapes her and travels into his mouth, he grasps her wrists and pulls away breathless.

"Th-Thank-you my lady..." His chest heaves, his eyes concentrate on the flooring once more. "But I can't...allow this...you are one of my charges...and...and...this is inappropriate..."

Shaking his hold, she places a hand on his face, which he turns away from. "Cullen...listen... this doesn't mean anything...it's just so you know what it's like. Kissing, nothing more. I promise." For some reason she just feels the need for him to know what it's like. An experience that most have in their teens, he's just now exploring in his early twenties. She can only imagine what it would be like for him with some future love, nervous, not knowing what to expect or what to do. For all that he's done for her and Thalia, she figures this is the least she can do for him.

"It's alright." She says calmly as she turns his face and places her lips over his once more, which he accepts.

"Stop..." Clasping the hand by his jaw, he gently shakes her off. "I-I appreciate what you are trying to do...but I...I...just can't my lady." Knowing how many times she's been taken advantage of, no matter how intoxicated he may be, Cullen can't let himself become one of those vile men. "It's...this...is too much. And I'm already feeling ashamed for my actions...I am only hoping that I remember little in the morning."

"You think I mean for it to go any further?" Amell asks softly.

"It's not you I'm worried about...things in me are...stirring...that should not be...and I've never...Maker this is awkward..." He puffs out long ragged breaths. "I-I've never...so I don't know, if I could stop myself...I've seen what little control men have, when they've had too much to drink...or think they are above all laws. I think it's best I never do that with anyone again...ever."

Thinking him a bit rash, Keira tries to fix the situation. "Cullen...I didn't mean to scare you away from any of this. I just want you to know that it can be pleasant. To show you what you've..."

"Been missing?" Cullen snorts. "Like I said my lady...I understand what you are trying to do...but now I know why a lot of those men...back at the...why they did what they did..."

"No matter what you think. You could never be like them." Cupping the side of his face, Keira offers a polite smile and leaves the room as he finally lies down.

As she exits, she quietly closes the door. Turning swiftly, when she hears someone behind her, she's surprised to see Alistair there, not looking any better than before. "Oh, my. Alistair, you startled me."

"Sorry." He wraps an arm around his stomach.

"Where's Thalia and Fergus?" Keira glances over his shoulder, trying to see if maybe the others were down the hall.

"Beats me...I went outside after we got Fergus to his room." He lets out a slow breath. "Maker I feel like I'm going to wretch out all that cheese right here."

Feeling bad for him for some reason, Keira places her hands at his temples, shuts her eyes and concentrates. A light green glow appears and then she stops. "There, that should help a bit. Feel better?"

Standing straight, Alistair manages a little grin. "Actually, I do...a little."

"Good, let's get you to bed." She begins to open the door, but Alistair grabs hold of the door knob.

"Quite alright my lady. Thank-you for your help."

"Anytime." She smiles and heads to her quarters.

The Prince enters the room and silently closes the door behind him. Starring at the other male figure in the now darkened room, Alistair heaves a long breath. Without any troubles, he removes his footwear and most of his clothing. He wraps himself under the covers and studies the ceiling. Chewing at the inside of his lip, he glances once more toward the other Templar, who's fast asleep. Alistair's brow lowers and his expressions become soft and a bit saddened.

Adjusting his pillow as he turns to lie on his side. Alistair reflects on what he saw through the crack of the semi opened door. Reassuring himself that there's nothing to ponder, he firmly shuts his eyes and tries to fall asleep.

* * *

"Do you know...how pretty you are?" Fergus blurts out laughing. "Seriously...I've never seen such a mage, elf...as pretty..." The eldest Cousland heaves once more into the mop bucket, which has become his best friend.

"I bet you tell all...the mage, elves that." Thalia pulls a powder from her pouch, mixes it with water then hands Fergus the cup. "Drink this. It'll help with the vomiting."

"You know..." He begins, and takes the glass from her while trying to sit properly in his bed. "I didn't see you drink all that much." He takes one big gulp and shakes his head in disgust. "Yuck." Fergus hands her back the empty cup.

"Well me and Thalia don't like alcohol, or what it does to people." She pulls the covers over the grown man. "Like how it's making you act for instance."

"What? I'm not that bad...just outspoken...I tell the truth when I'm loaded. See." He laughs and hiccups. "So when I say your beautiful, it's because I think it. Always."

"Uh huh...and grieving over your family has nothing to do with it..." Shocked at her own words she covers her mouth with both of her tiny hands. "My Lord, I'm so sorry...please..."

Fergus raises a hand. "I can see where you're coming from. But you must understand, that I can still appreciate those who are living, even though those whom I love are gone." His smile which is both gentle and sad, warms her heart. "And although this saddens me a great deal...I will be forced to marry again."

"You're the eldest." Surana states.

Nodding, he crosses his arms behind his head. "Yes, and my sister is a now a Grey Warden. From what she's told me, she'll have a hard time producing a child...so there's not really any way for me to place her ahead of me, for the inheritance." Snickering, Fergus glances at the small elf. "But don't worry, I wasn't complimenting you to try and get you to marry me. I was merely stating the obvious."

"Sides..." The mage smiles. "It's not like you could marry an elf, mage." She offers a quick wink.

Confused, Fergus almost winces in her direction. "Says who? Could, yes...would, depends on the character of the man in question, my lady."

It's her turn to laugh. "Alright then Lord delirious, time for bed."

"Do you doubt my word?" Fergus seems a bit insulted now, probably has something to do with the fact that he's highly intoxicated. "My lady, if I were to say I would marry someone, regardless of their race or stature, I would go through with it. End of story."

"Well, my lord, in that case I hope you find a good woman who'll treat you well and put up with your truthfulness." She quirks.

"Indeed..." He doesn't finish his train of thought. Instead, he rests his eyes and softly begins to snore.

"Sorry about that Sten." Surana apologizes as she quietly leaves the room. All she receives in return in is a low grunt.

* * *

Entering her own room, Thalia finds Keira sitting in the middle of a bed, dragging a finger over her bottom lip. _Deep in thought?_ The elf removes her robes and slips her night shift over her head.

"Tell me you had a weird night." Surana jokes.

"Hmmm..." Keira is just noticing her friend wandering around the room now. "Oh...uhm I had a weird...night." Her mind flashes back to Cullen's ragged breathing. Shaking herself from her daze, the dark-haired mage licks her lips and leans forward. "So...where were you?"

"Ugh, I had to help Fergus. I think he had alcohol poisoning...not sure if it was on purpose...but the man was ill." Tying her hair up in a braid, the elf jumps up and lands lazily on her bed. "Damn, this is one soft bed."

"So what did you do for him?" Amell asks, trying to keep her mind from earlier events.

"Mixed a ginger and elf root drink." The elf turns to her side to face her friend. "He told me that he says the truth when he's drunk, no matter how ridiculous or blunt it is..."

Lifting a brow, Keira shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah, a lot of people do...so..." A mischievous smile plays across her face. "Spill! What did he say."

"Nothing much really." Thalia's cheeks redden. "Just that I'm pretty."

"Oh...old news." The older mage laughs. "Everyone knows that already."

Laughing, Surana tosses a pillow at her friend. "It's just weird...you know...to have someone, not a mage or creepy Templar tell me that."

"Yeah...creepy Templar." Again, Keira is lost in thought.

"Speaking of Templars...what happened with you and Alistair?" The elf asks, curiously. "I didn't see him after he left Fergus's room."

"Huh?" Confused, Amell searches her friends face for answers. "Alistair?"

"Uhm yes...what else would you be thinking of so intensely..." The elven mage wiggles her brow seductively. "You must have been gone a while, you're still in your robes." Then a thought pops into Thalia's head. "Wait, no...you didn't..."

Jumping off the bed and heading for her pack, Keira begins to look for her night clothing. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just exhausted."

Little feet move swiftly across the floor, she can hear the little elf breathing behind her. "Keira...what did you do?" Thalia asks, with a bit of a school girl tone in her voice.

Misunderstanding, thinking her friend figured it out, Amell begins to recall to her what happened. "He said he's never slept with anyone...and before you ask, no I never..."

"Alright. So..." Surana is pleased to know that her friend didn't just jump into someone's bed.

"Then he said he's never kissed anyone...and I don't know...he said a bunch of other things...but I felt bad for him." Amell pushes her pack aside and turns to face her friend swiftly. "You know?"

"Oh, sure." The elf takes a seat on her friends bed.

"So I kissed him." Feeling ashamed, Keira begins playing with the hem of her clothing. "He pulled away. I'm so awful...Even though I meant well, doesn't mean it was right. Right? Besides, neither of us feel...you know, 'that way'...so it's nothing. Right? Thalia?"

"So he pulled away? That doesn't make sense." Surana is puzzled now. Why would Alistair pull away, she's sure she read him right. All the little signs, she thought she read them right. Surana herself hasn't really been in a relationship, but she knows how to read people fairly well.

"Yeah...said it would be taking advantage of me. And that he doesn't know if he could stop himself." Keira puffs. "Although, I wouldn't have let it gotten that far"

"True enough, I guess. Well at least we know he's honorable." The elf rubs her arms.

Laughing, the dark-haired mage lets her head fall back. "Oh come now. You mean to tell me after all these years, you hadn't known Cullen to be an honorable man."

Briskly, Thalia comes to a full stand. "What? Keira!? You forced yourself on Cullen?" Completely taken a back, Surana rushes to her friend. "Makers Breath... Keira!"

Confused as well, Keira eyes her friend. "You thought I was talking about Alistair?" Her friend nods. "Andrastes arse, I thought you figured it out..."

"Do you know how uncomfortable he's going to feel around you now? I know you had the best of intentions...but you really should have waited to ask him to do something like that while he was sober. It wasn't your choice to make."

"Maker, I did exactly to him what others have done to me..." Amell can feel the tears well up in her eyes.

"No. Not even close. You had good intentions and his interest at heart. While they only had their urges and desires to feed." The elf sighs. "It's not rape, Keira. It's a kiss. But don't be surprised if he acts a bit odd around us for a bit. Not only did a mage kiss him, but someone he's known for many years. He's bound to feel a bit...uncomfortable."

Pushing her hair back from her face, Amell paces her room. "Do you think he'll be angry, in the morning?"

Thalia shrugs her shoulders. "Honestly, I don't think so. He's a Templar, and well kind of endearing, I'm sure he's been hit on by all sorts at the Tower. He's probably trained to shrug things like this off. For now, just get some rest."

* * *

Early the next morning, Keira is in the dinning hall eating her breakfast, warm oatmeal, fresh fruits and tea. Not wanting a weird confrontation with Cullen, and hoping that everyone will just continue sleeping and get some rest. _They deserve it,_ she tells herself. Amell made arrangements to leave for Brother Genitivi's house soon. A young man looking for spare coin offered to find Genitivi's house for her while she ate. She didn't wait long, he'd return to her with the information that she required, and odd enough, turns out the man in question only lived several houses down.

"Morning, my lady." The hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she sips at her tea and turns to see who's standing behind her.

Covering a cough with her fist, she motions for Cullen to sit and eat. "Morning Ser."

"So...what are the plans for today...I-I meant, where are we starting...this sounds all wrong..." The Templar stammers, obviously nervous.

"I've found out where Brother Genitivi lives. Turns out we don't have much of a walk."

Cullen nods, and begins to eat. "So after that?"

"We'll stock up on supplies, find out what we can about Loghain, and head out tomorrow." The mage finishes her tea and pulls her journal from her bag.

"Tomorrow?" The Knight stares at her from under a crooked brow, his arms crossed. He, she concludes, does not look impressed with her strategy.

"What?" She dips her quill in ink and jots down a few notes. Still reading about lyrium. _Elements that can control a mage. Fatigue and it's effects._

Leaning his elbows on the thick grain of the table, Cullen firmly shuts his eyes and shakes his head. "It's nothing..."

"But...however...I feel like one of those words are going to be used." Grinning, Keira eyes him over the pages of her book.

" _However_..." He clears his throat. "I highly recommend that we continue with our mission."

"Our mission?" The mage quirks while jotting a few more notes onto her pages. "Our mission...Ser...is to defeat a blight, and if we have any spare time, take Loghain out of the equation. And if it means that the few good people I have with me need a break once and a while...well then count that as part of the preparation."

Nodding, Cullen continues with his meal. "I'm not disagreeing with you...M-my only concern is that the Arl might not have that long."

"Damn." She hadn't forgotten about the man, really she hadn't. "I know...but it's just...we don't know where the Urn is or how long it will take us to get it. Even if we do, we still have his demon spawn to deal with." Amell places her things back into her pack. "I figured that since he's been sick this long, another day couldn't hurt..."

"It might." He conjures.

"But I've paid for the rooms for an extra night." She exhales, making excuses.

"I-I'll talk to them...get them to put it on credit. We can use the rooms another time...I'm sure we'll be back." Finishing his breakfast, Cullen pushes the plate aside.

"Alright, thanks." Keira lowers her gaze and studies her fingers as they scratch lightly into the tables surface. "About last night..."

The Templar raises a hand. "Already forgotten...now can we head to Genitivi's house?"

* * *

A small cobble stone and straw hut is what it looks like from the outside. The inside is no better. A dog runs loose around the yard as children play and shout in the not so far distance. The door to the home opens and Alistair exits, perturbed and a bit angered. Kate continues to yell insults over her shoulder, her hound barks as if agreeing with his master, and Thalia follows the bastard Prince not too far behind.

"What in Andraste's name crawled up her arse and died?" Surana glares back at the door, just in time to see the evil shrew slam it shut.

"It's not her fault..." Alistair shields his eyes as he stares off into the distance.

A small hand squeezes his shoulder. "It's not yours either." Kate offers a gentle smile.

"Well...that's not what I expected." His shoulders drop, distressed. "Is this the family I've wondered about all my life? I just can't believe it." Kicking at the dirt, he begins walking back towards the tavern. "I guess...I was expecting her to accept with me without question. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I...I feel like a complete idiot."

Trying to catch up to his long strides, Thalia places herself beside him. "Look I can tell you from experience Alistair. Everyone is out for themselves. You really should learn that."

Knowing she's right, Alistair forces himself not to look back at the little hobble. "Yes, I guess I should. Lets...just go. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

As they continue on their way back, they meet up with Keira, Cullen, Fergus and Zeveran. "So how did it go with Goldana?" The dark-haired mage beams, only to have Alistair brush right past her. "Oh, that well huh?" Her eyes meet Thalia's.

"I'm sure he'll explain later. It's not my place."

"Right..." Amell glances to Kate.

"Don't look at me, it's none of my business if his sister is some money hungry, foul-mouthed, harpy." Thalia regards the younger Cousland with a stern look.  
"What? You trying to tell me I'm not right?"

"No, it's just not our place to discuss his family affairs." Thalia sighs. "I'm hungry, I'm gonna head back."

"So how did your little visit go?" Kate lifts a brow hopefully.

"Good actually." Fergus steps forward and stretches. "Would have been better..."

"If you weren't still hung over?" Kate allows a lop sided grin to splay across her face. "So what did we find out?" Her attention now focused on their leader.

"Well, I know where we can start." Amell hands over a large book with all of Brother Genitivi's notes.

"Had an antivan elf not slid Weylon's throat..." Cullen starts, clearly irritated.

"The man attacked our beautiful leader...was I suppose to let him succeed in ending her life?" Zeveran surveys his nails.

"Anyways..." Keira rolls her eyes. "Turns out this guy wasn't even the real Weylon...the man that was supposed to be Genitivi's apprentice of sorts."

Kate hands the book back to the mage. "Really?"

Nodding, the mage continues. "Weylon, was actually dead in the next room. Looks like this guy was there to either attack Genitivi or prevent people from following him. Regardless, we found a detailed map and my team will be heading for a village called Haven."

"Never heard of it."

"None of us have either. Regardless, it's time we begin preparations." Keira begins walking towards the Inn.

"Agreed. But shouldn't we find out more information about Lohgain." Fergus stifles a yawn.

"I have Ty and Morrigan working on that as we speak."

* * *

If it's not one thing, it's another. Keira Amell stares at the camp fire just a few feet from her. Not only is Loghain looking to have the Wardens killed, but he's more worried about securing the throne then protecting Fereldan from the blight. Then it's traveling, as a mage, both herself and Thalia still find it hard to get use to being on the road. It's usually damp, or cold, sometimes both, more than often it's both. Then there's the constant worry about being followed or watched, or even ambushed. Not to mention the raids they come across, well at least attempted ones. There's also the countless refugees and soldiers they come across, all battered, wounded and hungry. Most of the times they are still fleeing from whatever it is that was chasing them to begin with, which means this little group has to do something about it. As much as it earns Morrigan's disapproval, they fight and help as much as they can.

"Hey...I found this and thought..." Ty awkwardly hands Morrigan a tiny hand-held mirror. "I-I heard you and Amell talking one night...and well...here."

The golden eyes of the witch of the wilds studies the little gift. "Where did you find this?" Her fingers trace over all the delicate markings along the item's back.

"It doesn't matter...look...I know we haven't really gotten along lately...or at all for that matter...lets just call this a peace offering. Alright?" The rogue elf scratches at the back of his neck.

"Agreed." Morrigan continues to look over the intricate designs.

"Good." Ty claps his hands together. "I'll just head back over there now." He points with his thumb over his shoulder to the main fire. "Got to rest and all that."

"Of course." Morrigan sits on her bed-role next to her own flame, mirror still between her hands. "Thank-you." She says in a low tone. "I've never received a gift before. Certainly when nothing was expected in return."

"Anytime." Ty clears his throat and heads back to the camp.

"You're awfully quiet this evening." Alistair takes a seat in the grass next to the dark-haired mage. "Well I guess that's to be expected, considering there's a lot to contemplate."

Yawning, Keira adjusts her cloak over her shoulders. "For instance?" She hints.

"Ah yes, the dreaded talk about my sister." He picks up a small branch and pokes at the coals in the pit. "It's nothing really. Seems she was only interested in me as long as I had coin to offer her. And the fact that my being born was a terrible inconvenience, really didn't help the matter."

"I didn't hear the exact words used, but I did hear that Kate and Goldana did exchange...uhm...insults." The mage stares at the sparks that the hot embers produce as Alistair continues to move them around.

Snickering, Alistair presses the branch further. "That's a polite way to put it, I guess. She stood up for me, that's all. Which really...I think Goldana might have had a point. Maybe not a good one..."

"Alistair, do you really believe that." Amell crosses her arms over her knees and rests her chin against her forearms.

"No...and well yes...It's like Thalia said...everyone's out for themselves." Now feeling a bit down, he tosses his charred stick into the fire and it sends sparks and a bit of ash floating into the moonless night sky.

"It's true." Keira reaffirms. "It's sad, and it's discouraging...but it's still true."

"Well from now on, I'm going to look out for myself. Think of what's best for me." Alistair squares out his shoulders, trying to reassure himself that this is the correct decision.

"Good. Because, as much as we would all like to think so...no one is going to do it for us."

Eying the pair from her tent, Thalia has to agree with what they are saying. In the end, as much as she loves Keira, she has to look out for herself. But can she really believe that? After everything they've been through, after everything Keira has gone through, can Thalia really say that her friend doesn't have _her_ best interest at heart. As she continues to consider these things, another notion comes to mind. If the blight is defeated, and if the mages were considered equals after all, she would still be an elf. A knife ears with no future and no chance for a real life.

Her eyes linger to Alistair's form. As much as her beloved friend is unaware of this man's feelings, he _still_ has them. Thalia sighs. Again, a man who has caught her attention, has fallen for the beauty of that of Amell. _It's not her intention, and she doesn't even know of your silly crush._ She tries to tell herself. But the pain of not being noticed is still there. A beauty of an elf, but an elf none the less. Closing the flap to her tent, she hears rustling of foot steps in the dirt.

"Lady Surana?" She knows this to be the voice of Cullen. "I-I've collected the...uhm...plants you asked for."

The elf reopens the flap and lets the man deposit the herbs into her basket. "Thanks...but you know I could have gone to get them myself. It would have saved time and..."

"No." He flatly replies. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you while I'm around."

"I don't know if you've noticed this Sera, but trouble seems to follow us wherever we go..." The elf giggles as she sorts through the greens.

"It's bad enough I won't be able to keep watch over you as of tomorrow..." He drags a worried thumb over his brow, his hand shakes with the guilt of a promise to an old man.

Flashing her one of a kind smile, Thalia tries to reassure the man. "Cullen, you worry too much. I'm only going to the Tower...once called home. And it's only a two-day journey." Her eyes linger back towards Amell and Alistair. "It's you lot I'm worried about. We don't know how far this village is, or where you have to venture to after that..." Her voice begins to crack so she clears her voice.

"Make sure you both come back. Alright." Her eyes are still fixated on the silhouette of her friend.

"Deal." The Templar turns to see where her gaze lands.

* * *

"This is it." Keira turns to her companions. "Lets make sure you have the supplies you need, and then we can all head out."

It's early, the sun is still rising, but she knows it's not the reason she's cranky. Yet again she has to part ways with her friend. The feeling of dread and lingering fear is still deep within her gut, but she has to be strong. Everything they do is for the greater good. Yet, it doesn't seem like it's enough. Their lives are constantly on the side lines, while the lives and freedom of others are always priority.

"You know..." Thalia grips her friends hands. "It's a good thing I studied you during battle, I think it'll come in handy." She offers a sheepish grin. "You got all the herbs..."

"Yes..." Amell points to the pouch securely placed on her belt at her waist.

"Good." Thalia sighs. "Remember when we were younger, and we'd hide in the library from those...men...and we thought that was the worst of it...that things would get better." The little elf's eyes begin to moisten.

"But things are going to be better." Keira affirms. "Once this is all over with, we'll still be Wardens, and that means we will have some sort of freedom."

"I guess." Thalia wipes at her eyes. "Alright, give me some love before I actually start to cry. And don't say goodbye, because it sounds like we won't see each other again."

Embracing her friend, Keira allows for one lone tear to fall from her eye and down her face. One tear for her one true friend. "Sounds fair. I'm not saying goodbye."

"Me either." The elf squeezes her friend once more, then calmly walks away. "And you..." She points to the large Templar, who suddenly looks like a child who's been caught steeling goods from the pantry. "Come here."

Slowly backing away, not quite sure why the healer would be angry with him, Cullen can feel his cheeks reddening. "Yes...my lady?"

Quick to stand on her tip toes, the elf mage wraps her arms around his neck. "As far as being a Templar, you're alright. And I think I'll miss you too."

Not knowing what to do, but having a sense of brotherly love for the little mage, he returns her embrace. Shocked at this open display of affection, Thalia smiles. "Remember, you said you'd both return."

"I remember." Pulling away gently, Cullen clears his throat and heads over to the wagon to help Sten secure the flaps and the ropes.

Thalia takes one last glance at Alistair and then one more at Keira. _This is not goodbye._ Turning around, she notices Fergus, Kate and Morrigan waiting for her. "Leliana, we need to go."

"Of course my friend." The bard catches up and laces her arm with that of the elven mage's. "Don't worry, I'll keep you company."

"Thank-you."

Watching the small group bound for Kinloch, leave, Keira tries to remind herself to be confident in hers and Thalia's abilities. Feeling an unmistakable presence behind her, the mage tilts her head to the side and rubs at her temple. "You think they'll..."

"They'll be fine." Alistair assures. "Besides, it's only a two day trip. All they have to do is speak with...the old man and the grumpy Templar and then they'll march back to Redcliffe." Alistair drapes an arm over her shoulders. "Piece of cake...plus, if Thalia is as good with wording stuff as you say she is...she should be able to con a night's stay out of them."

"I suppose." But deep down inside, Keira feels that something is off, something she can't put her finger on.

Squeezing her frame closer to his, Alistair speaks in a low tone. "Just think, once this is all done, we'll have half of our army built." Winking to emphasize his charm, Keira can't help but smile.

"I guess you're right about something for once." She tucks her cloak closer around her and begins walking down the trail.

"For once? Hey that was a cheap shot."


	10. Chapter Ten : The Great Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : So this chapter is basically what I like to call a filler, but it's here for a purpose. Things in this chapter need to happen for you to understand later events. Also, it's very long, I know, what can I say, I'm a fan of long chapters.
> 
> Disclaimer : This is for fun. Bioware knows I own nadda.

**Chapter Ten : The Great Unknown**

The Frostbacks are relentless and cold, while the small group slowly makes their way up a path in the mountain range. The ground is covered in a light blanket of fluffy snow, as are the tall Pines. Keira tightens her grip on her staff and shields her face with her thickly furred hood as a gust of wind sends shivers down her spine. At the head of the line, is Alistair, chilled to the bone he turns to his companions.

"I think we should make camp there." He points to a small clearing in the near by forest. Surrounded by large trees and rocks, the area seems to be the perfect spot to shield them from the unforgiving weather.

Not wasting any time, the group enters the clearing while there's still day light left. Bodahn uses his cart as much as possible to block the remaining winds from passing through. Sten begins chopping down large branches while the others look for large logs to burn. Once a decent amount of wood is put together, Keira closes her eyes, flicks her wrist and flames begin to crackle in the fire pit.

Pulling her cloak closer around her frame, Amell rubs at her arms hoping to help subside her shivering. Noticing her obvious discomfort, Cullen wraps his extra furs around her shoulders. The Antivan Crow catches this behavior from the corner of his eye.

"I do hope you brought warmer clothing, my dear Warden. Wouldn't want any of your..." His eyes follow the length of her body. "Beautiful body to be damaged by the effects of the cold."

Accepting the additional layer from the Templar, the mage exhales softly. "I do, yes. Thank you for your concern." She tries to offer a polite smile, but finds all she can do is allow her teeth to chatter.

"Hmmm...I'm assuming you've never experienced weather such as this?" Zevran is actually curious, what has a mage, locked in a tower for most of its life, experienced?

"I..." The dark-haired mage continues to shiver. "It gets cold...in the tower...in the winter..." She visibly tries to shake off her insistent chills. "I'm not use to the wind...or the snow..."

"Not to mention, the strain of being outside in these conditions. It's going to be difficult for her to get use to." Cullen adds.

"Interesting." Zev raises a brow. "So you've never ventured on the grounds of the island during winter?"

Keira nods. "No."

"But you have." The bold elf points out and lets his gaze drift to the large Templar.

Cullen glares in the direction of the assassin. "You know I have."

"To capture or kill the likes of our dear leader here." Zevran's smile turns into a smirk.

"Blood mages and malifeficarum or those who were a danger to others and themselves. All whom are nothing like Amell." The Templar informs sternly.

"I see...so if our dear Leader were to...how do you say it? Turn into an abomination or dabble in the art of blood magic...you would have no problem striking her down?" The assassin knows what he's doing, however he doesn't know if his point is getting across.

"He would do what is deemed necessary. End of story." Keira's gaze focuses on the fire. "At least, that's what I hope he would do...It's a fear every mage has...to be twisted and turned into something so horrifying. The way most of us see it...he would be putting us out of our misery."

Turning back to his charge, Cullen squeezes her shoulder. "Come. L-lets find your warmer garments." The Templar ushers her back towards the cart.

"Do you think he could do it?" Alistair inquires, while tossing more wood into the pit.

"Yes." The elf rolls out a bed roll on top of his wolf skins.

"How do you know that?" The bastard prince dusts off his hands on his trousers and also rolls out his bedding for the night.

Looking up towards the stars, Zev almost laughs out loud. "I have this incredible ability to read people..." He side glances the prince and continues sorting out his equipment.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Knowing that there's some hidden meaning there, Alistair regards the elf with bitterness.

"It means, my friend...you shouldn't judge him so lightly. Do you think you could kill her, if you had to?" The assassin pulls his twin blades from his pack and begins to sharpen them. For some reason, the noise of the stone gliding along the edge of the dagger is rather soothing to Alistair.

"I..." He honestly doesn't know.

Snickering, Zevran continues to tend to his blade. "You see my friend...not such an easy task your fellow Templar has been burdened with hmmm?"

"Yeah...I guess...wait a minute..." Alistair curls his lip, a bit frustrated with this bronzed elf. "For someone who's all talk-y...you haven't said if you could...well you know!"

The noise of the stone hitting metal stops briefly. "Ah...the golden question. It's what I do." Sighing, Zevran spits on the stone and continues his work. "I would not take pleasure in the kill...no...but it would need to be done."

Alistair tosses a few lone branches into the flames. "Well, it doesn't matter. She's not going to turn into an abomination or whatever...so we don't need to think or talk about it anymore."

Deciding to let the conversation drop, the assassin concludes that he's discovered more about their little party then he originally intended. His eyes ever seeking information surveys the camp without anyone paying any attention to him. He notices the massive Sten, sitting on the opposite side of the pit, also mending his weapon. The city elf, Ty is clumsily skinning their meal, while Sandal studies the dead animal through the gaps between his fingers that shield his eyes. Bodahn seems to be constructing a lean-to of sorts, while Cullen holds up a large sheet to shelter their view of the mage Amell.

"A-are you quite finished y-yet?" The Templar stammers, not enjoying his current, forced, form of labor.

"Sorry Cullen. I know I'm making you uncomfortable, but there's no one else as tall as you...other then Sten and well..." Keira's feet can be seen near the hem of the sheet as she continues to dress herself.

"I-I understand...but this is one reason w-we should have h-had another woman in the group." Cullen, for extra measure also has both of his eyes closed.

"Oh do get over it." Amell giggles. "There, done." She basically rips the cloth from his hands. "All warm now." What a difference. The air doesn't seem as crisp with all these layers on. Brown leggings and fur-lined boots will help keep her mobile and warm. A new leather corset, with straps in the front, will continue to protect her organs from harm. Her enchanted beige blouse and matching slit squirting are all part of the mage get up that will help with her spell castings.

Alistair's eyes almost fall from his skull when he turns his head and catches a glimpse of her. Accidentally poring half of his hot beverage down his chin and chest, he quickly stands and brushes himself off. "Damn it! That burns!" He clears his throat and tries not to look directly at the mage. "That's your warmer clothing?" He raises a brow and clears his throat once more, trying to hint to her obviously exposed chest.

"Yes." Keira looks to him puzzled as she reclaims her cloak and borrowed furs. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"I uhh..." The prince looks around to the other men who all shake their heads, some embarrassed, others not bothered. "You just look a little...exposed."

Cullen slaps his forehead with his palm, loudly. Alistair glances in the other Templar's direction and shrugs his shoulders. "What?"

"Oh?" Keira looks down to her abdomen. "I guess I could have gotten a better corset, but mages needs as much flexibility as possible. It makes spell casting more effective and allows us to react quicker."

"Uh huh."

* * *

Daylight has gone, and a clear night sky replaces it. The stars shine brightly as Keira studies them. Body content with a full belly of food and wine, her thoughts drift to her friend, Thalia. The sounds of laughter and chatter fading as her thoughts push them aside. _Is she looking at the same beautiful star filled sky? Maker is she alright?_

Smiling brightly while listening to one of Bodahn's tales, Cullen catches a glimpse of the mage. The Templar takes a seat beside the dark-haired woman and looks up to the same shimmering specks of light. "S-she'll be alright, you know."

"I know." Keira exhales deeply. "I think I would feel it...you know? If something were wrong...or if she were..."

"I think you're right." Cullen agrees. The bond the two mages share is undeniably strong. He believes whole heartedly, that if something were to happen to Thalia, that Amell would sense it.

"But Maker knows I can't stop worrying about her." She giggles and hugs her knees close to her chest.

"I h-had a talk with Fergus...before we all parted ways." Cullen begins plucking pebbles from the cold ground.

Snorting, Keira turns to him, interested. "Really? What did you say? Or should I say, what did you threaten?"

"That if she were harmed in anyway...I would hold him responsible for it." The Knight admits, shyly.

"Cullen, that wasn't very nice of you!" She nudges the man with her shoulder. "You should have said that to Kate, I'm sure she would be more capable for the job." The two companions laugh.

"I believe you're right." Becoming more serious, Cullen tosses his little rocks aside. "A-and what about you? How..how are you holding up?"

"Me? Fine." The mage tugs her cloak closer. "You know, nothing like an impending doom to keep the mind at ease."

The Templar chews at his inner lip. Thinking. The conversation doesn't continue, instead they seem to silently agree to continue listening to the tall tales being told by those around the fire. The hours pass by and still they all take turns. Zev revisits old memories as he joyfully recites all his favorite conquests, most have the two Templars blushing shades of red Keira has never seen before. As the night continues and Cullen becomes more tired, he decides to lean back against the large tree stump.

The fade is calling, he can feel it. A warm wind, his name echoed in the distance. A green mist begins to pick up and he can hear a hissing noise and then something calling out his name once more. Just as he begins to take a few steps forward, he trips and falls. Landing on his side, he turns to push himself up off the ground, a strong hand grabs his shoulder and shakes roughly. _"Cullen!"_ Turning quickly, he comes face to face with the corpse of his mentor. The dead eyes of Greagoire seem to pierce into his soul.

"Cullen!"

Flashing open his eyes, fear still forcing his heart to run a marathon, Cullen realizes that he had been dreaming. This time instead of meeting the eyes of a dead Templar, he's greeted with those of a concerned one.

"Maker, Cullen. I've been all but yelling at you." Alistair let's go of the other man's shoulder. "Are you alright? Looks like you saw a ghost."

"I-I...just a nightmare."

"Alright, well it's your turn for watch, but I can take hers next go...she seems...exhausted. This really is that difficult and different for her isn't it?" Alistair glances to Cullen's side. The Knight follows the prince's gaze to see Keira, curled up against his left side, hugging his arm while silently dozing.

Quickly, his eyes dart back to the man before him, hoping he'll have a solution for his current dilemma. Alistair slowly backs away just as lost as to what they should do.

"Sorry, thought you were alright with it. You fell asleep, Bodahn was telling a story about how he convinced a man to sell him this cart...when I looked over my shoulder, I noticed she was yawning, a lot. Next time I glanced over, she was leaning against your shoulder. Didn't think nothing of it. You had been sleeping for sometime. Figured that maybe she'd get uncomfortable and move or something..."

Cullen leans to his right side and tries to gently pry his arm from her grip. The mage stirs, shifts her weight and continues to sleep. Again, with pleading eyes, he looks to his fellow Templar.

"Hey, as long as you can keep watch, and make sure nothing goes bump in the night...I don't see what the big deal is. Just let her sleep." Not seeing any problem with his conclusion, Alistair stands, stretches and heads for his proper bed roll. "If she isn't awake by next watch...wake me somehow...I doubt I sleep as hard as you do."

The Templar Knight doesn't respond, he only continues to glare at the retreating form of the other man who left him in this awkward position. Sighing lightly, Cullen looks to the sky... _Maker why me?_ He shakes his head then looks back to Amell's sleeping form. _Well...at least she's resting._ He concludes. Trying not to move, he adjusts his posture, to ease his aching muscles. Thankfully, Alistair restocked the fire before he decided to abandon him. Cullen shifts his arm, hoping to allow some circulation, as he does the mage sits up and rubs her eyes. Still sleepy and dazed, she looks around the camp quickly as if trying to place where she is. Seemingly satisfied, she lifts his arm, wraps it around her shoulders, scooches closer to him and rests her head on his chest.

Lifting his head to see how his companion is doing, Alistair has to cover his mouth in an attempt to keep the laughter from leaving him. The facial expressions on the other Templar is priceless. Alistair is positive that Cullen will most possibly die from sheer embarrassment and lack of oxygen, due to the fact that he seems to be refusing to breath. Chancing another look, Alistair notices Cullen staring back at him. The Templar silently words out _I swear to the Maker...if you tell anyone._ The prince continues to cover his mouth as his chest vibrates with silent laughter.

Rolling his eyes, the Templar tries to stay composed and serious. Her long hair, when she moves slightly, tickles his collar-bone and throat. Carefully, with his free hand, he sweeps her hair aside. Beginning to form a stiff neck, but afraid that if he leans back he'll fall asleep, Cullen gently wraps his arms around her sleeping frame and adjusts his back so that he's sitting a little more straighter. Better, but not a hundred percent, he gently sighs. The tiny mage snakes a hand across his abdomen to his other side and hugs his body for support. Again, his eyes dart to the sky and he shakes his head, convinced that someone out there is trying to kill him. He hopes to the Maker that everyone in camp will remain asleep.

Finally, now used to the tiny form sleeping on him, Cullen no longer feels as awkward. Embarrassed, yes, but nothing else. Revenge, he has already begun to plot against the bastard prince. Another hour passes, and he's just about to throw something at Alistair to wake him, when Ty begins to move. The elf slowly sits up and leans his weight on his elbows.

"Uhm...you look dreadfully uncomfortable." The rogue remarks, in an almost pitting manner.

"You have no idea." Cullen continues to stare at the fire.

"Oh...I think I have a bit of an idea." The elf winks.

"Shut up." The Templar growls. "Alistair was going to take watch next...think you can wake him?"

The city elf looks to the sleeping human then back to the big Templar. "Nah...I'll take his shift. I can't sleep anymore." Ty stands, extends his arms and stretches.

"Alright. Think you can help me out here?" Cullen looks to the elf pleadingly.

"With what?" The rogue looks over the sleeping mage. "It's no big deal. Just go to sleep. She's not hurting you...get over it." He states blankly.

_True._ Cullen admits to himself but tells no one. Against his inner judgement, he leans back against the dead tree, hoping that she'll eventually just move on her own, and allows the fade to take him once more.

* * *

_"Why are you here little man?"_ It's the hissing voice once more. _"Come to play have you?"_

Cullen tries to figure out where he is. Swiftly, he turns in circles looking for any possible hint or sign of where he may be. Then, he smells it. Dampness, stone and sandal wood. Home.

_"Are you afraid Templar?"_ In a panic, he reaches for his sword, but his hands find nothing at his side. Holding out his palms in front of him, he notices that his gauntlets are gone as well, looking himself over, he realizes that all of his armor has disappeared as well. Standing in nothing but his pants and boots, he readies himself for whatever might be hiding in the dark.

_"I can smell it you know...fear."_ A fog picks up and the Templar tries to remind himself that he's in the fade. He firmly shuts his eyes and tries to will himself to wake up. When he opens his eyes, he sees a figure slowly make its way out of the fog, a Desire demon. _"Hello Templar."_ She hisses and the air all at once becomes cool. The glowing indigo eyes of the creature studies his movements as he readies his stance. _"I do not wish to fight."_ A wicked smile of fangs appears across her face. _"I only wish to serve."_

He can hear the words in his head, but they do not leave his mouth. _Leave foul demon!_ The creature takes a few steps closer, her hooves making echoes as she does. _"Oh come now...is that really what you want?"_ She laughs, licks her lips and then begins to rub her arms. _"But I'm so cold..."_ The demon's eyes take on a more familiar human form. _"Wouldn't you like to do something about that?"_

Whispering a few words, the demon bows her head and a bright light flashes. Cullen takes a few paces back while shielding his eyes with his forearm. The light subsides, so the Knight glances carefully in the creatures direction. To his amazement, the Desire demon is gone and in her spot, Keira stands. _Keira!_ Again, no words leave his mouth. His eyes, wide, he rushes to her side.

_"I'm cold."_ She whispers. _"Hold me...please."_ Reluctantly, he does. The mage leans in closer, allowing her head to rest on his chest. _"Much better."_ Resting his chin on the crown of her head, he takes in a breath and can smell her sent. Cinnamon and wildflowers. _"I'm still so cold."_ She shutters. His eyes search the strange room, and he spots some animal skins near a window. Quickly, he grabs a few and securely wraps her in them. The tower is always so cold, he reminds himself. She should know this by now. Content, he looks around the room to try to figure out how they got here. _Something isn't right._

As he looks for clues, his eyes drift to the floor and he notices her feet, they're bare. _Odd. "What's wrong?"_ Amell tries to follow his gaze, to see what he's looking for. _"Don't worry...No one will be coming up here."_ Confused with what she's talking about, he tries to ask, but no question leaves his lips. She takes a few steps closer and place a gentle hand against his cheek. The Templar, confused with what is going on slowly backs away once more. His back collides with a stone wall and he's forced to stop. _"Why are you so nervous? What's going on? Has Thalia been teasing you again?"_

He wants to remind her that the elf is not here, but he only continues to stare at her. _"Breathe."_ She reminds him and he takes in a deep breath. _"Good."_ She smiles as she leans in and presses a light kiss on his lips. The Templar relaxes, shuts his eyes and pulls her closer. Pressing up against him, she allows the furs to fall to the ground. He trails small kisses down the length of her neck, and she dips her head back to allow him access. Her _cold_ hands follow his abdomen muscles to the hem of his pant, where she begins untying his belt. _"See it's so easy...all you have to do is give in..."_ The voice, he recognizes as the demon's, hisses from Amell's lips.

Angered, he pushes the impostor to the ground. His fists form tightly at his side as he stares at this mockery. Not only is he now understanding what is going on, but he's pissed off with himself. He knew, deep down inside, he knew this was a trick, but he went a long with it. _Why?_

_"Because it's there, little man."_ The creature points to the spot in her body where a heart is supposed to be. _"Maybe you didn't know it before..."_ She laughs. _"But trust me...Templar...I've awoken something haven't I...and you know it!"_ Cackling, a puff of smoke appears and her form disappears, leaving him alone in the dark once more. _"My work here is done!"_ The voice echoes in the distance.

* * *

Cullen awakes, terrified and sweating. Shaking, he carefully removes himself from Amell's grip and heads toward the darkened forest. He walks past the fire and Sten who is now on watch. "J-just looking for some water..."

"That way." Sten points in the direction the Templar was heading to begin with. Nodding his thanks, Cullen continues on his way.

Hearing the running water, the Templar rushes towards the sound. He drops to his knees as soon as he reaches the bank. The water is icy around the shallower edges, but he doesn't care. Plunging both his hands into the river, he brings water back up and rinses his face. "Maker..." His muscles continue to shake. "What in Thedas is wrong with me..."

To his right a branch snaps, quickly he pulls out a dagger, stands and turns all at once and captures his tracker by the neck. "What are you doing?!" He commands.

"Cullen...it's me..." The tiny mage grasps at his forearm.

His eyes growing large with clarity, he quickly let's go. "Amell...Andraste...I-I'm sorry!" Clearly not himself, he pulls the mage to him and hugs her tightly. "I didn't know you were there. Forgive me."

"It's...alright...I should've told you I was there..." She tries to reassure the man. Then suddenly, his body begins to shiver. "Are you alright?"

"Just...I...uhmm..." His body continues to shake and he drops to his knees, still holding onto Keira's frame for support. "Keira...I-I...don't feel like myself...and a bit ill." The Templar leans his head against her abdomen and he can feel her check his forehead.

"No fever...can you walk?" He doesn't answer, only squeezes his hold around her waist tighter. "I'll take that as a no. Look, I'm going to go get someone to help me bring you back, alright?" Again, he doesn't answer. As the mage tries to move away, his arms flex and she's unable to move. "Cullen, please, you're not well." Sensing something in the trees, Keira rolls her eyes. "Whoever is there, I could really use your help right about now."

"Ah, beautiful and attentive...I like that in a woman." Zevran steps out of the bushes. "Is he bothering you my lady?"

"No. He's sick." Her eyes look down to the ill Templar. "We need to get him back to camp."

Just as Zevran takes one of Cullen's arms, the Templar comes to a full stand and takes a few steps towards the river. Dropping to his hands and knees, he empties the contents of his stomach. Keira rushes to his side and as she's helping him to his feet, she notices something odd. His vomit has a blue tint to it.

"Lyrium." She whispers and looks to the assassin. "We need to get him back now."

"No, I'm fine. I j-just need a minute." He waves them off as they share a concerned look. Cullen takes a seat on a large rock and wraps his arms around himself. Shivering and his teeth chattering, he stares at the forest on the opposite side of the waters.

Turning his back, so that the Templar can't hear him, Zevran whispers into the Warden's ear. "I'll go fetch the other Templar for some help. I do not believe that your very sensual womanly hands will be capable of lifting this man in his condition."

Nodding in agreement, Keira takes a seat beside Cullen. She notices that he can't seem to get warm, he's constantly shivering and rubbing his hands together. The only thing she can think of is to wrap her arms around him. He leans into her and allows his breathing to calm down. Ducking his head under her chin, he tries to control his constant shivering. Even when loud footsteps are heard, he doesn't move, only continues to keep his eyes firmly shut, concentrating on not vomiting.

"Keira...is he alright?" Cullen can hear the other Templar's feet shift in the snow-covered ground.

"It's the Lyrium. I think it's affecting him again." Her finger drags calming traces through the hair on his scalp and he concentrates on listening to the beating of her heart.

"So what do we do?" Alistair waits for her answer, and again his feet force the snow beneath him to crunch.

"I could put together a mixture that we Crows use to counteract the effects of most poisons." The elf suggests. Cullen can feel the muscles beneath the mages clothing shift, uncertain.

Sighing, Keira continues to run her fingers through the Templar's hair. "I don't know of anything else for the moment. Everything I've read so far...nothing has told me anything more than what we know."

"Will this...Kill him..." Alistair asks, afraid of the answer he might receive.

"I'm not sure. That's why I keep reading...looks like I might need to research faster." The mage exhales deeply. "First things first. We need to get him back to camp, then Zevran, I need you to show me how to make that mixture...hopefully that will help him until we figure something else out. Alistair, why haven't you had any symptoms?" Keira brings her attention back to the ill Templar, basically nestled in her lap.

"I never fully became a Templar...D-Duncan, got there before that happened." He too stares at the other Templar.

"I see." Amell gently nudges Cullen's shoulder. "Come on, we're going to get you back so that you can lie down. Alright?"

A bit light-headed, he tries to sit up. Alistair grabs the larger man by the arm and slowly helps him to stand. Cullen can feel his eyes roll and he begins to fall backwards.

"Woah! Easy big guy." Alistair supports his ill comrade and drapes one of Cullen's arms over his shoulders. "Zev, can you get his other side? He's heavier than he looks."

"Certainly." The elf wraps an arm around the Knight's waist and holds on to the man's forearm. "I would appreciate it if you would refrain yourself from emptying your stomach onto my leather boots."

The two men slowly help the Templar Knight back to his bedroll. Zevran makes his way for his back pack and begins mixing a few ingredients while instructing Keira on the correct amounts of each herb.

"Now if you want, we can mix this with some tea, so that we can be positive that he takes it." Zev suggests. "But keep in mind, this will knock him out for a bit."

"Alright." The mage agrees.

After mixing the freshly ground herbs with some tea, Keira kneels beside Cullen, places a hand behind his skull and helps him lift his head. "Drink this...it'll make you sleep, but you might feel better when you wake up."

"No..." Cullen tries to avoid the warm liquid being offered to him.

"Please...you need some rest...and this is the only thing we can do for you at the moment."

The Templar can feel the warmth of her palm just above his neck and in his hair-line. He can't go back to sleep, not after...

"Don't want to s-sleep..." Cullen pushes the hand holding the mug at his lips away. "Dead things...creatures..."

"He was having nightmares...or hallucinations?" Alistair wonders and kneels down beside the mage trying to help her.

"I'm not sure...maybe both. Can you hold his head up? I'll try to convince him to drink." The mage switches spots with the prince.

Being as careful as possible, Alistair supports the other man's head, while trying to keep him still. "Come on friend, you need to drink." The Knight, tries to sit. "No, no, no, no, no. Stay right here...you can barely keep your eyes open." Alistair forces the man to lie back down.

"I hurt Amell..." He's sure she's still laying on the floor somewhere in the tower.

"No you didn't...I'm fine." Keira again tries to assure the man, that her throat is unharmed.

Confused, Cullen tries to focus his vision. His eyes find her face, he reaches up and touches her hair. _She's real. What's going on._ Confused, he allows her to press the cup to his lips and he drinks all that's offered.

Spent of energy, Alistair rubs his forehead with his thumb, trying to remember anything from his time in the Chantry. Anything that could help. Under different circumstances, that could have been him laying there. Staring into the flames, the first rays of light begin to appear through the branches. Too deep in thought to notice the mage sit down beside him.

"Are you alright?" Keira looks to him concerned.

"Hmm?" Alistair shakes of his reveries and turns his attention to her. "Fine, why do you ask?"

"You just looked...well never mind." The fire crackles and Keira can't help but study the little sparks as they go flying up.

"And what about you?" The prince studies her facial reactions, which are neutral.

"Fine. I just wish I could figure out what's wrong with him." Her shoulders slump forward.

"We'll figure something out. I'm sure. Maybe not today, or tomorrow...but you know...Sorry I'm trying to be uplifting here." He scoffs.

"Yeah...and in the meantime, we still need to make our way up to that town, find Brother Genitivy and get back to Redcliffe. Not to mention raise an army, fight the darkspawn and avoid being murdered by Loghain's followers."

"Hey woah." Alistair rests a hand on her shoulder. "Breathe. Giving yourself a mental break down isn't going to help matters." He offers her a bright smile.

"You're right...but it's hard...to relax. How do you do it?" The mage chuckles and rubs her hands over her face. "You know, not let it all get to you."

"I does bother me...but..." He stops mid sentence and his eyes focus on the tree line.

"Alistair?" Keira turns her head and tries to see what he's looking at. "What is it?" Then she feels it, that new familiar tug at her senses. The hiss in her ears that she knows only other Wardens can hear.

"Do you feel it?" The prince slowly comes to a stand while reaching for his blade at his side.

"Do you think they're near by?" Amell spots her staff, it's at the other side of the camp, as she's about to make a dash for it, a fireball is sent crashing towards them.

Alistair does the only thing he can think of, he tackles the mage to the ground and shields their heads with his arms. He glimpses over the rest of the camp to make sure no one else is hurt. The force of the blast, sent Ty and Sandal into the small bushes, Zevran had apparently also caught sight of the assault and had managed to dodge the attack. Sten is standing defensively next to Bodahn and the cart.

"I hear them, they are just beyond those trees." The large Qunari continues to hold his position, while watching the shadows.

"How many? Can you tell?" Alistair asks while helping Amell to her feet. "I can sense half a dozen, but I could be wrong."

Quickly Ty readies his bow, swearing as he reaches the middle ground next to the prince. "I think you're count isn't that far off. They probably would have hit us harder if there were more in numbers."

"Good point." Reading his shield, he studies the area around him and notices Cullen, still out cold. "Zevran what the hell did you give him? We could really use his help about now."

The Antivan elf quickly makes his way next to the Templar Knight. "He'll be fine, but I will watch over him." The rogue pulls out his twin daggers and waits. "They're coming."

Keira helps Sandal and his father crawl into the back of their cart. "Stay here." She orders, to which they do not argue. Taking a spot next to Sten, she lifts her arms and silently commands the earth to become her protective gear. The giant beside her shakes his head.

Then finally, the first signs of darkspawn are seen, a shriek appears, it spots them, tilts its head back and does as its name suggests. It shrieks, with a sound that has the group covering their ears. The creature them lurches for them as two blighted wolves appear and begin to do the same. An Emissary is seen, but keeps its distance. It signals the two remaining Hurlocks to charge as well. The shriek, quickly covers the distance between it and the camp, it reaches Keira and Sten in a matter of seconds. The creature screams as it attacks the Qunari who can barely keep it from clawing his face.

Closing her eyes, the mage whispers an incantation, at once her companions blades are blazing with flames. The Qunari smirks when his foe backs up a bit, startled by the element. Sten attacks the beast, it takes several massive strikes before the thing is cut down. The wolves are just about to hurl themselves at Alistair, who's standing at the ready. Just as the animals make it off the ground, they are hit with an assault of arrows. A quick whimper escapes them and they fall lifeless to the ground. The prince smiles over his shoulder and nods in Ty's direction. The two then sprint towards the oncoming Hurlocks.

Keira studies the movements of the Emissary as it moves slowly closer. It turns its back to her. "What are you doing?" She asks herself, as she takes this opportunity to cast a lightning spell. A loud crack is heard as her bolt of energy is sent towards the darkspawn mage, which to her utter surprise, he deflects and sends crashing back towards her. The bolt hits her square in the chest. The rock armor does its job and protects her, but she hits the ground hard and is almost knocked unconscious.

Fighting the Hurlocks, Alistair and Ty do not see the Emissary use its magics to tear a tree from the ground and send it flying towards them. A few seconds before the massive pine strikes, Ty manages to duck out-of-the-way. Alistair however, receives a blow to the chest with its massive trunk. Taking careful aim, Ty knows it's up to him to end this battle. He secures his bow, loads an arrow, takes a breath and pulls back his string. Lining up his sights on the darkspawn mage, he notices that it's heading towards Keira who's still lying on the ground trying to catch her bearings.

"Not today..." The rogue let's go of the bow-string and the arrow hits its mark.

Amell recoils as the Emissary stops dead in its tracks with an arrow dug deep into its skull. The creatures eyes roll to the back of its head and it falls face first into the snow-covered ground. Sten and Zevran can be heard dueling with the last of their foes. As Keira's eyes search their camp, her sights land on Cullen, he's safe, just as the assassin said he would be. She spots the Qunari next to Zevran, whom are looting what they can from the cadavers. Ty is helping the dwarves exit their cart.

"Where the hell is Alistair?" Then she spots him, struggling to free himself from under the large tree. "Maker..." She rushes towards him and uses her magic to help move the massive pine. "Alistair...Andraste are you alright?" She helps the man to his feet and notices him favoring his left side.

"I think I have some broken ribs...other then that...just peachy." He hisses as he tries to take a step. Wincing in pain, he looks down to his side. "Alright, make that shattered...I have shattered ribs."

"Now's not the time to joke around." Keira helps him walk back to the fire, as the rest of the group prepares a separate fire to burn the decaying darkspawn.

"Now move your hands away." As carefully and as gently as she can, the mage assists him with removing his upper armor. Once they remove his tunic, the damage is already visible, his side is bruising and is quite swollen. Her eyes meet his.

"It's bad isn't it?" He sees her nod. "Alright...do whatever you need to do." He tries to take in a breath, but his muscles spasm with the pain from his side.

"I've never healed broken bones like this..." She warns.

"I'm sure you'll do fine..." At the moment he doesn't really care, anything has to be better than this.

The mage lightly places her hands around the effected area. She shuts her eyes and tries to do everything exactly the way Thalia thought her. Feeling her energy, she channels it to her hands. Once there, she tries to imagine the healing process as best as she can. A few clicks, crunches and pops are heard, but the man in her care never moves. After she's sure the bones are where they need to be, she directs her magics to send waves of cold then some of warmth. Feeling his muscles relax, she removes her hands and opens her eyes.

"Woah..." Ty sits next to Alistair and probes his side with his index finger. "Does this hurt?"

"No...but you can stop it anyways." Alistair pushes the elf aside. "Thanks!" He sees the mage's posture slump. "Are you alright?" He eyes her, trying to judge her mood.

"I'm...fine. That just took a lot out of me. I'm...not use to casting healing spells yet...specially one of that magnitude." Keira rubs her temples while leaning her elbows onto her knees.

"It was that bad huh?" Alistair continues to watch her.

"N-no...and now I'm cold." She shivers and he's reminded of the conversation they had about when her mana and energy is low.

"Ty, can you restock the fire please?" The prince asks and begins searching for extra blankets. "Hey, Sten!" He shouts. "Make sure to burn those bastards to a crisp. We're staying here another night." Alistair wraps the mage in her cloak and some furs he found. "We all need a bit more rest before we leave." His gaze lands on Cullen's sleeping form.

"Don't worry he'll be fine by the morning. I...I'm sure of it." The mage shivers. "Don't think the rest of us will sleep tonight. I guess it's best we rest one more day."

* * *

It's early when he wakes up, real early. The sun is just beginning to rise from its slumber as well. Using his elbows for support, Cullen slowly pushes himself up from his bedding. He rubs his eyes, slowly stands and notices some recent changes in the camp surroundings. Seeing Amell sitting by the fire, he takes a seat next to her.

"What in Andraste's name happened here?" He listens to her words very attentively as she retells the events of the evening. As she informs him of the attack, he tries to slowly reintroduce his stomach to food and water.

Seeing his empty plate, the mage smiles. "Staying down so far?"

"S-sorry?" Then he sees what she's talking about. "The food. Y-yes...for the time being."

"I stayed up...I couldn't sleep after the attack. I've been reading more about Lyrium and I still can't figure out..." She runs aggravated fingers through her hair.

The Templar shakes his head. "It's not your fault..."

Clearing her throat, the mage leans forward and begins to poke at the fire with a branch. "I've been meaning to ask you something." He finds it weird that she doesn't look at him.

"Alright." He deposits the plate onto the ground and wipes his hands together.

"Were you having hallucinations? Or were you dreaming? Nightmares...just before you started to not feel well." She pushes the branch into the coals and leaves it there.

"I-I...I'm not sure..." Cullen knows she probably needs to know everything to try to figure out what's going with him, he just doesn't feel that comfortable telling her the details. "I...I think I was in the Fade. You were sleeping..."

"Oh and I'm so sorry about that..." Amell tries to apologize, but Cullen shakes his head dismissing it.

"I didn't want to...disturb you...so I fell asleep." The Templar grows quite, rolls his shoulders then tries to continue. "I knew it wasn't a regular dream...if felt different...the first time I saw Greagoire dead...the second..."

"Go on." Keira tugs her cloak closer around her frame.

"The second time...a demon appeared." The Knight lowers his head, ashamed.

"Oh?" Amell ponders this. "Which one?"

"I-I...can't...I don't want to talk about this..." He shakes his head and looks away from her questioning eyes.

"Alright. It's fine." Keira wonders what can have him so bothered, but decides not to press the matter. "So, you're visited by a dead Greagoire...a demon..." She lists the occurrences on her fingers. "Then, you vomit what seems to be Lyrium..." The mage sighs and mulls the facts around in her brain. "Something's going on...you've been doing much better...then to suddenly have a relapse...it just doesn't add up."

"Do you think something else is going on?"

The mage studies the bright flames of the fire. "I'm not sure...but for some strange reason...I've been having this growing feeling that Thalia is heading towards danger."

"But how?" Cullen tries think of anything dangerous that the elf mage could come across while heading to Kinloch. "T-they should be close to the Tower by now...and Kinloch is just as safe...if not safer than a fortress."

Sighing, Keira shrugs her shoulders. "I know...but something just feels...off."

* * *

"There it is." Thalia eyes her former home from the banks of the lake. "Home sweet home." She shields her eyes with her hand from the rays of the sun. "And look at that...looks like we're going to have a beautiful day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : The next chapter will be about the Tower...dun dun dun! Please remember to R&R!


	11. Chapter Eleven : No Place Like Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My main focus in this story is Keira, she's my OR and so I tend to lean towards 'her' story more. But I also find that my other OC Thalia is really growing on me. So I've had this little chapter planned just for her for some time now. There will be more like this, but not many. Just a heads up. I also really liked the dialogue for the Broken Circle quest, so I tried not to change too much of it. I already have a few other chapters where the groups are split like this, so for those who are a fan of them, do not fear, they are not done yet ;)
> 
> Disclaimer : Dragon age and it's characters are owned by Bioware, this is just for fun.

**Chapter Eleven : No Place Like Home**

_Why was Carroll, a Templar, guarding the dock to the island?_ As the boat fairing Thalia and the rest of the group across the lake, inches closer to her former home, a sense of foreboding begins to rise in the pit of her stomach. _Something is wrong._ The boat docks and they all climb ashore. The Tower is quiet. Thalia stands before the doors and looks up its massive height.

"The view from up there must be spectacular!" Leliana can sense her friends anxiety, but tries to stay positive.

"That it is..." The elf trails off and opens the large wooden doors. She gasps at what she sees in the main hall. Several Templar are injured, others are attending the wounded. As she eyes the mess before her, she spots Greagoir, and just behind the senior Templar are his Knights, who seem to be guarding the door to the stairwell. Surana slowly makes her way towards the Knight Commander as Templars rush past her. Her companions not far behind, they too seem to be in shock.

"And I want two men stationed with in sight of the doors at all times." The Commander is giving orders to one of his Templar Knights. "Do not open the doors without my expressed consent. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" The Knight salutes his superior and walks away.

Fergus studies the situation. He's no stranger to these tactics. "The doors are barred." He whispers over Thalia's shoulder. "Are they trying to keep people out...or worse...in?"

"Greagoir...what's happened?" Thalia takes a few steps closer to her former guardian.

"We're dealing with a delicate situation." The commander paces the floor, his hands resting on his hips. "You must leave for your own safety."

"What? No, I can't...Greagoir...this was once my home." Surana pleads with the man.

Sighing, Greagoir stops his pacing. "I should speak plainly. The tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demons stalk the tower's halls. The Circle is lost. The Tower...has fallen."

Eyes brimming with tears, the little elf mage gasps. "How...how did this happen?"

The Knight Commander regards her sadly. "We don't know. We saw only demons...hunting Templars and Mages alike." He removes a gauntlet and rubs a hand over a tired brow. "I realized we could not defeat them and told my men to flea. They took us by surprise. We were prepared for one or two of them...not the hoard that fell upon us. So we shut the doors. We will remain safe for now."

Shocked, Surana shakes her head, trying to understand his reason. "You locked the doors? With everyone still in there?"

"My Templars and the mages. I had no choice...the abominations must be stopped at all costs." He explains wearily. "We do not lock the doors to leave them closed forever. Everything in the tower must be eliminated. I've sent word to Denerim for reinforcements and for the Right of Annulment."

The elf mage raises her hands to cover her mouth, frightened. "What? Greagoir...no..."

"What does he speak of?" Kate rests a hand on Thalia's shoulder.

"The Right of Annulment gives the Templars the right to neutralize the tower, completely." The Knight Commander rolls his head from side to side, exhausted.

"The mages in there are probably already dead. The abominations running around in there must be dealt with no matter what." Fergus points a finger to the ground, trying to emphasize the magnitude of the situation.

"This situation is dire. There is no alternative, everything in there must be destroyed so that it can be made safe again!" The Commander argues his point.

Angered, Thalia takes another step closer. "The mages are not defenseless. Some must surely still be alive!"

"If any of them are still alive, the Maker himself must have shielded them. No one could have survived." He replaces his gauntlet over his hand and stares at it. "It...it is too painful to hope for survivors and find...nothing." The Commanders eyes meet those of the elf mage.

"Let me go in. I'll look for survivors." Thalia requests

Greagoir shakes his head. "I assure you, an abomination is a force to be reckoned with and you will face more then one."

"Greagoir please...you need to let me at least try." Thalia grabs hold of the man's hands. "Please I beg you."

Once more he sighs. "If you succeed...I would owe you much."

"Alright...then it's settled." Thalia looks over her friends. "I do not expect any of you to risk your lives. I will go on alone."

"Like that's going to happen." Kate pulls out her daggers and twirls them in her hands. The mabari at her side barks, as if agreeing with his mistress.

"Besides..." Fergus crosses his arms and chuckles. "That big Templar...Cullen...Told me what he would do to me if I let anything happened to you. Lets just say...he wasn't planning a picnic." The older Cousland marches on towards the barred doors.

"I too am joining you. Morrigan, are you coming?" Leliana eyes all the Templars. "Or would a witch of the wilds prefer to remain in the company of so many...talented men?"

"I..." The witch studies her surroundings then decides to move on as well. "I intended to see the rest of this massive bird-cage."

* * *

A few hours later, Thalia and her group have made it through most of the tower. Discovering that Wynne had protected a hand full of mages and youngsters just beyond the locked doors, had been uplifting. Just knowing that at least some mages had survived, gave the little elven mage strength to carry on. Wynne had then explained how Uldred had been the one behind the entire massacre and how he and some of the other mages had turned to blood magic. Trying to persuade more mages to follow their cause, they had taken prisoners to the Towers peak, Irving being one of them.

Panting heavily, Surana rests her hands on her knees. "We need to take a break. I'm draining..."

"Agreed. But we can't linger here long, someone or something is bound to come across us here." Wynne surveys the area they are in. "This is the Templars quarters...it's so..."

"Yes...almost unrecognizable." The elf stretches her back. "I still can't get over everything we've seen. Those mages...I grew up with them...studied with them. Turning to blood magic...I just don't get it. And all those abominations...Maker..."

"Yes. It's a lot to take in. Even if we manage to save the tower...it will never be the same. It will never truly recover this loss." Wynne sighs sadly, adjusts her staff in her hand and heads toward a corridor. "This way looks clear."

Just as Fergus takes the lead, he stops and raises a hand. Confused, Kate places herself at his side. "What is it brother?"

"Shh." He turns his attention to a door that seems to be falling from its hinges. Carefully and quietly he makes his way toward the door and peers inside. To his surprise, he finds a Templar who seems to be completely oblivious to the presence of a Desire Demon, who is looming over his shoulder.

"Everything is just as you wanted my Knight. Our love and our family is more than you hoped for." The creature drags her fingers along the mans plated chest.

Just as she takes a glimpse over Fergus's shoulder, Thalia becomes enraged. "I know that man..."

Before he can do anything about it, the elf brushes past Fergus and heads toward the couple in the room. "What in Andraste's name is going on here?" Thalia prepares her stance, she's ready for a fight.

"Do you hear something, love?" The Templar is too deep into the delusion to understand what is actually taking place.

"It is nothing, my darling. Just the door. I will get it. The children have finished supper. Tuck them into bed, while I see who it is." Aggravated, the Demon turns to the intruders.

"Don't be long, the children will want to kiss you goodnight." The Templar Knight turns as if there really were children about somewhere.

"You are intruding upon a loving, intimated moment...and I dislike disruptions." The creature snarls in their direction.

"That's not a concern of mine!" Thalia casts an ice spell in hopes to freeze the demon in its spot.

"What was that?" The Templar sprints back towards his lover in disguise.

"Help! There are bandits at the door! They are going to murder the children!" The demon continues to struggle in the mound of ice that she has been captured in.

"They will not get pass me!" Sensing magic in the air, and believing that his family is under attack, the Templar concentrates and smites the area. Wynne, Thalia and Morrigan are knocked to the ground. The Knight then charges Fergus.

Grinning, the Desire Demon holds a glare with Kate. The creatures eyes shift, and Kate realizes that the demon is actually staring at the two abominations at her sides. Just as the monsters descend upon her, the younger Cousland, ducks and rolls backwards kicking up as she comes to a stand. Leliana seeing her chance sends an arrow towards the purple haired demon. Desire frees an arm and catches the arrow in mid-flight, she snaps it in two and tosses it aside.

Shaking her head, Morrigan allows her vision to clear. She takes a deep breath and allows herself to transform into a wolf and then holds ground with Kates hound. The two then tackle one of the abominations. Wynne, sees that the Templar is not going to lose steam any time soon.

"We need to take her down!" The Enchantress points to the demon. "She's controlling all of them."

Nodding, Thalia concentrates, she needs to focus her will and control on what Keira had taught her. Taking a deep breath, she raises her staff and then points it at the creature, letting all of her energy go at once. A bolt of lighting is sent crashing down on the demon, it falls to the grounds, a burnt husk screaming as it's eyes and mouth light up and then the rest of its body catches on fire.

Even though Desire has been struck down, her spell seems to continue to control the Templar and the abominations. Fergus has no choice.

"I'm sorry..." Twisting his wrist, Fergus pushes his sword forward and it slashes the other man in the neck. Coughing on his own blood, the possessed Templar crawls to the still burning body of his lover and collapses, dead.

The abominations are quickly dealt with as the group teams up and takes them down. Shaking, Surana takes a seat on some rubble.

"He really loved her..." She wipes her brow. "In some twisted way...he really did think she was real..." Sickened and saddened by the entire ordeal, Thalia can't help but feel that beyond the walls of Kinloch, Keira is having just as much luck.

"We need to keep moving." Fergus offers her a hand. "There's much to do, and we do not know how much time we have left."

Taking his offered help, the little elf takes one last look at the dead Templar. "Rest easy now friend."

* * *

She finally understands it. What Keira had tried to teach her. The Elements, can't be controlled, only directed. The elven mage looks over her sleeping group and helps them up one by one as they slowly wake from their slumber. Had the Sloth Demon not have tricked her into going into the fade, she might have never truly understood the elements at all. Now armed with the Litany of Adralla, Surana feels a little more prepared for what could be ahead.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Kate quickly dashes towards a corner where she empties her stomach.

"That was...unnerving." Morrigan slowly comes to a stand, while balancing herself against a large piece of broken stone.

Using her staff for support, Wynne aids Fergus to his feet. "What in Thedas was that?"

"A Sloth Demon. It's unimportant. We need to find Uldred." Thalia climbs over a piece of rubble and heads toward the doors that she knows leads to a staircase. "We need to end this."

As the elf opens the doors, she spots what she can only describe as a cage, made of some sort of magic. "This cage...I've never seen anything like it." Wynne is carefully studying the circle of energy, but dares not to touch it.

"Those poor souls...they must have suffered a great deal." Leliana can't help but fold her hands together when she sees the scattered and torn bodies of the Templars inside the caged circle.

"We need to get to the Harrowing chamber. That's where they all must be. " Wynne looks up the staircase, her eyes focused on the doors. "I need to know that if anyone is still alive..."

Thalia rests a hand on the Senior mages shoulder. "We are going to do whatever we can to stop them." She reassures the elder mage.

"Well, we can't stand here all day...lets get this over with." Fergus climbs the stairs and opens the doors. Once inside the chamber, they become witness to Uldred's techniques. If a mage refuses to join him, he forces them to do his bidding by turning them into an abomination. Blood magic, his tool for torture, he turns the mage before him into a twisted being. The mage screams in pain and horror, as his limbs become malformed and his clothing tares as his body grows double in size.

As Uldred turns, he notices his new guests. "Ahhh what have we here? Intruders. I bid you welcome...care to join in our...revels?" A grim smirk spreads across his face. His features darken as he awaits an answer.

"You must stop what you are doing immediately!" Wynne threatens the crazed man before her.

Raising his hands, as if in surrender, Uldred takes a step back. "Oh how could I disobey when you say that in such a commanding voice?" Dropping his hands, the Blood mage curls his lip. "I'm quite impressed that you're still alive. Unfortunately, that must mean that you killed my servants." Shrugging his shoulders, Uldred crosses his arms behind his back. "Ah well, they are probably better off dying in the service of their betters than living with the terrible responsibility of independence."

The Enchantress readies her staff and concentrates her magics. "Don't worry...you'll soon follow your servants."

The group slowly begins to move towards the blood mage.

"Wait, wait, wait...let's not be hasty. I'm trying to have a civilized conversation here." Uldred backs away further.

"We do not converse with abominations!" Thalia points her staff in the direction of her former mentor.

Angered, Uldred's brow knits in frustration. "Fight if you must. It will just make my victory all the sweeter." The blood mage claps his hands together and a wind picks up. The bodies of the dead surround him and he transforms into a giant abomination.

"If I die...Maker...please watch over Keira..." Thalia whispers and charges for the creatures before her.


	12. Chapter 12 : The Lonely Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have this thing I do where I write long chapters...I can't help it...it's what I like to do. For those of you who don't like them long...I have it in sections, so it's very easy to keep a spot and come back to it at a later date.
> 
> Disclaimer : Dragon age is owned by Bioware, this is just for fun.

**Chapter 12 : The Lonely Mountain**

Skin covered in a cold sweat, Keira quickly sits up, breathing quickly. _A nightmare, nothing more._ She tries to convince herself. Brushing shaky fingers through her hair, her eyes survey the area around her. Everyone, except for Sten, is asleep. Feeling the cold hit her skin, she pulls her blankets closer to her chest. The mage knows she needs every bit of rest she can get. The day had been long, having found Haven to be a town filled with, as Alistair put it, a bunch of loonies. Their adventure thus far had not gotten any easier. The towns people had kept Brother Genitivi captive, but once the group had defeated and scared off most of the towns folk, the Brother had been more than happy to lead them to the mountains entrance, where they decided to make camp.

Her eyes drift back to the fire as she contemplates if she should try to resume sleeping. Shivering under her sheets, she hears Cullen mumbling in his sleep. Looking over her left shoulder, she sees him tossing in the darkened corner.

"Liam, what are you doing? Put it down..." She hears him say quietly. Curious, she inches closer. She knows the man he speaks of, he's another Templar, back at Kinloch. "You fool..." Again, Cullen is muttering. As the mage gets closer, she can clearly see the distress etched in his features. He's not in pain, but he seems worried.

"Cullen..." She whispers, hoping if she doesn't wake him, she'll at least comfort him.

"She's a demon..." The Templar turns to his side, his back now facing the little mage. "Kill it...before..."

Hesitantly, the mage looks at her hands then places them on his upper arm and shakes the man lightly. "Cullen...you're dreaming..."

As if her motions sent an alarm ringing through his body, the Templar grabs hold of one of her wrists, pulls her to the ground beside him and holds a small dagger to her side. "Foul creature..." His eyes are large and are just beginning to register what is taking place. "Amell?" The grip on her wrist loosens.

"Sorry...you were having a nightmare...I should know better than to..." The mage looks to her side, to point out his weapon.

"M-Maker...I'm sorry...I always have one at my side...when I travel." He puts the blade back into its leather strapping. Still laying on his side, he shakes his head. "I-I don't know if it's the Lyrium problem...or if...it has something to do with being a Warden...but I-I keep having dreams about home. Uhmmm...I mean...I mean the tower."

"Wait...you too? I thought it was just me?" Keira lies on her side to face him. "I thought we were suppose to be having weird nightmares...so when mine started about Thalia and the Tower...I didn't think much of it."

Sighing, the Templar licks his dry lips. "I think...our uhm...nightmares are suppose to be about...the darkspawn...not, well...home."

Mulling this over, Keira decides that they can't let it get in the way of their current job. "Agreed...but we can't dwell on it. We have an important task ahead of us. We can try to figure it out after this is done with."

Blinking quickly, Cullen nods, agreeing. "Right." His amber eyes drift to the small hole in her shirt. "I-I'm sorry, my lady...if I..."

Looking to her side, she waves him off. "Just a small slit, no big deal." Smiling she brings her attention back to his serious face. Their eyes lock for a moment and she's forced to look away. Clearing her throat, she rises from her side and heads back to the comfort of her bedding. "We need to get some rest...hopefully we sleep a dreamless sleep."

Blushing as she leaves, Cullen yawns. "Hopefully..."

* * *

The snow is much deeper on the mountain side. It's almost up to their hips. The sun is hiding behind thick grey clouds that continue to drop an endless blanket of snow. As they make their way down a small rocky path, the wind suddenly changes directions. There's a loud buzzing sound in the air.

"I didn't feel anything shift with the elements...something is wrong here." Keira tries to shout out to her companions over the loud whistle of the wind.

Alistair looks to the sky, squinting his eyes, he tries to focus on the noise in the air. "We're being watched." He looks over to Cullen and the other Templar nods. "Dragon."

Worried, Keira shrinks back a bit. She's never faced a High Dragon before. Small ones here and there and throughout the caves they've just ventured and a larger one that was guarding the exit. But a High Dragon, has her terrified. Slowly she starts to back up, and stops when her back makes contact with Cullen's chest plate. The mage looks up to her protector and she pulls her cloak in closer.

Bending so that she can hear him, the Templar says, "Stay back with Zevran...keep your aura shield up and hit it with anything but fire." Cullen readies his shield and sword, and makes his way next to Sten and Alistair.

"Do not worry my dear, with all this muscle, the beast is sure to fall quickly." Zevran offers the nervous mage a quick, charming smile. "And you have yours truly to protect you." Trying for humor, he winks in her direction. The elf then takes out his bow, and his tone becomes more serious.

Alistair pushes back his hood and tries to see if he can spot the body of the massive beast anywhere in the sky. "Where is that big flying lizard?"

As if hearing his call, the beast drops from the sky just a few yards from them. Cullen looks back at Keira, for what he hopes will not be the last time. Hearing the men at his side shout and charge, he turns and does the same. As the three men charge the animal, the mage does her best to prepare the battle ground in their favor. She charges her companions weapons with as much electricity as she can and casts a protective aura. The little mage then looks to her surroundings, and calls on the powers of the earth. Boulders are sent flying toward the dragon and the earth trembles at its feet.

The massive creature spots Sten at its side and tries to squish him with its giant tail. The Qunari ducks and tries to impale the creature, with no success. Alistair takes a chance, running directly under the monsters jaws and heads towards it's belly. The bastard prince attempts to stick his blade into the beast's gut, but the skin is too thick here. The dragon senses the danger and dodges to the left, Cullen drops and rolls out-of-the-way, just missing death by inches.

"Our weapons are not going to cut through it's hide." Sten shouts over the loud growls and dodges a ball of fire.

The Templar then looks up the hill and his gaze meets that of Keira's. She knows what he wants, for her to lose control over herself once more, like the time she did with the darkspawn in the field. In this moment she knows and understands. This time he will not fail her, he will be there to stop her when it goes too far. Dropping her staff, she shuts her eyes and concentrates.

The bronze elf looks over his shoulder and tries to keep and eye on her as he steadies his bow. "My dear Warden...is that wise?"

"There is no other option." She answers in an icy tone. As a flame is sent their way, and Zevran closes his eyes, anticipating death, Keira lifts her head and opens her glowing eyes. The flame stops and cascades around them, her aura shield has tripled in strength.

Stunned, Zev opens an eye to see the flames retreating around them. Lowering his bow, he looks back at Keira who is now floating a good foot above ground. Her fists are formed tightly by her side as she stares menacingly towards her opponent.

"When I say so, bring the beast down." The three men nod and await her command. The winds pick up speed and begin to swirl around her. Energy crackles around her. Ice and snow begin to mix with the winds circling her form.

The Dragon, unafraid of this new threat, growls and spits out more flames. Flapping its wings, it begins to make flight. The mage puts a stop to that right away. Quickly she looks up to the flying beast, and a bolt of lightning hits it, sending the monster back to the ground. Staring intently, Amell summons a lightning storm to damage the wings on this mighty creature, keeping it earth-bound. Flaring her fingers, she commands the snow and ice to do her bidding and capture the dragon. The beast attempts to struggle as it's limbs begins to freeze. It growls and spits out flames.

"Now!" The mage shouts, and the men below, take charge, driving their blades wherever the elements have made the dragons scale weak.

Sten quickly climbs the neck of the beast and drives his sword into its skull. Letting out one last shriek, the High Dragon's eyes roll back and it plummets to the ground. The Qunari, realizes that the mage is once more out of her mind, he jumps down from his vanquished enemy.

"What are we to do with that?" He shrugs into the direction of their Leader who is clearly not done with the Dragon.

"I'll handle it." Cullen places his sword and shield onto the ground.

Alistair grabs hold of the Templar's shoulder. "Are you sure about this? Can you focus enough to stop her?"

Nodding, the Templar Knight continues on his way towards the mage. "Yes, but I need you to distract her for a moment."

"Uhm...alright...easier said then done." Alistair jogs over towards the dragon's body. "Alright...here goes nothing." He begins waving his arms. "Keira over here! Please I need your help." Nothing, the mage continues focusing on the dead animal. Alistair bites his lower lip as he sees his companion slowly creeping up on Amell. Then a thought occurs to him.

As the mage slowly floats closer to the body of her opponent, she's struck behind the head with a snow ball. For some reason she can't explain, this angers her. Swiftly she turns and lashes out on her attacker, sending a gust of wind and a thick piece of ice in his direction. Alistair has the wind knocked out of him as he's srtuck full on in the chest. Landing hard on his back, he rolls in pain.

Seeing a moment of opportunity, Cullen runs as fast as his armor will allow, he climbs on top of a large rock and jumps from it, tackling the mage to the ground. Quickly he shuts his eyes and wills his body's energy to smite the magic around him. Amell's body goes limp in his arms.

"We really need to come up with better battle tactics." Alistair limps towards the other Templar. "She alright?"

"She'll be fine. Maybe a migraine...but other then that..." Cullen scoops up the sleeping mage.

Alistair locates Cullen's gear. "I got your sword and shield." The Templar offers him a nod of thanks.

Zevran covers his head with his hood. "We should head for that clearing, the entrance should be around there somewhere." He picks up the Warden's staff, places his bow on his back and heads towards the mountain side.

The Qunari says nothing, only grunts his disapproval and follows.

* * *

Keira opens her eyes to see that they are in yet another cave. Her vision still hazy, she holds her head as she sits up. "Andrastes arse..." Feeling dizzy she lies back down. Cullen's smite must have worked, otherwise she wouldn't feel this bad. She can hear a fire crackling, some people murmuring, and then foot steps heading in her direction.

"Here...drink this." A warm cup is placed between her hands. She brings it to her lips and finds that she doesn't really mind the taste of this beverage. She takes another mouth full and then tries to focus on who's talking to her.

"Alistair..." Then she remembers what she had done to the poor man. "Maker...Alistair are you alright...I didn't mean to..."

"I'm fine." He hushes her. "Keep drinking that."

Sitting up, Keira looks over the group from the brim of her cup. "What is this?" She studies the liquid in her goblet.

"Uhm...if you must know...dragon broth." He winces, waiting for her to lash out.

"Really? It's actually quite good." She brings the beverage back to her lips and finishes what's left.

Laughing, the prince shakes his head. "You can tell you have the appetite of a Warden."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Keira looks at him, confused and a bit embarrassed.

"I...uh...just meant if you're hungry, the elf is cooking some dragon meat as well." Alistair attempts to avoid offending the powerful mage.

Dragon meat, for some reason at the notion of food, her stomach growls. But then something seems out-of-place. "Where's Cullen?"

"He went scouting on ahead, not long ago. He should be back any moment." Offering her a gentle smile, Alistair heads back to the fire. "You really should eat...even though its giant lizard night."

* * *

Looking a bit pale, Cullen returns. "I've...found someone who calls himself the Guardian. We need to proceed..." His eyes quickly drift to the mage, then he turns on his heel and heads back towards where he came from.

Rounding a few corners, the group can see light coming from an area up ahead. Keira notices that Cullen is standing off to the side, deep in thought, his arms crossed as his right thumb strokes his chin. As they come to stand before a set of doors, a man dressed in ornate armor appears.

"I bid you all welcome." The ghostly Knight begins in a raspy tone. "I am the Guardian of the Ashes. I have waited years for this." He looks over the group, his eyes seeming to search their souls. "You have come to honor Andraste, and so you shall, if you prove yourself worthy."

"Alright, how does this work?" Alistair chirps up from the back of the group.

The Guardian's eyes meet those of the bastard prince. "It is not my place to decide your worthiness. The Gauntlet does that." The Guardian's gaze returns to the entire group. "If you are found worthy, you will see the urn and be allowed to take a small pinch of the Ashes for yourself. If not..."

"All right...we understand...can we continue please." Keira finds that being so close, she has become a bit impatient.

The Guardian's attention is now focused on the mage. "Before you go, there is something I must ask. I see that the path that led you here was not easy. There is suffering in your past, your suffering and the suffering of others." The spirit pauses, then continues. "Jowan was discovered by the Templars. You, in your own way were helping him. Tell me, do you think you failed Jowan?"

Her eyes fall to the ground, defeated. "Yes...I guess in a way...There must of been something more I could have done for him..." The mage's eyes brim with tears, knowing that there's so much more to what she's being feeling, but also knowing that somehow this Guardian, this spirit before her, knows of her inner struggles.

As if sensing her easement at finally being able to say her confession out loud, the Spirit nods. "Thank-you. That is all I wished to know."

Alistair takes a few steps to stand beside the saddened mage. "You are too hard on yourself, no one's perfect." He whispers and drapes an arm around her shoulders.

"And what of those that follow you?" The Guardian lets his eyes search their little party. "Alistair..."

The prince's head jolts up. As his eyes look on toward this Spirit, that he's starting to find very invasive and annoying, he suddenly starts to feel uneasy.

"Knight and Warden...you wonder if things would have been different if you were on the battlefield with Duncan. You could have shielded him from the killing blow. You wonder, don't you..." The Guardian takes a few steps closer. "If you should have died, and not him?"

"I..I...yes if Duncan would have been saved, and not me, everything would be better. If I'd just had the chance...maybe..." Alistair drops his arms to his side, ashamed.  
Keira weaves her fingers with his, feeling his pain she bites at her lower lip.

"And the Antivan Elf..." The Spirit looks to Zevran.

"Oh is it my turn now?" The bronzed elf claps his hands together, mocking the Guardian. "Hurrah. I'm so excited."

"Many have died at your hand. But is there any you regret more than a woman by the name of..." The Spirit is unable to finish.

"How do you know about that?" The elf points an angry finger at the Guardian.

"I know much. It is allowed to me. The question still stands, however. Do you regret..."

"Yes, the answer is yes. If that is all you wish to know, I do. Now move on." Resting his hands on his hips, Zevran makes to the back of the group, attempting to cool his temper.

Sten locks eyes with the Guardian and curls his lip. "Demand whatever answers you want Spirit."

Looking at the massive Qunari before him, the Guardian nods and continues. "You came to this land as an observer, but you killed a family in a blind rage. Have you failed your people by allowing a Qunari to be seen in that light?"

Sten regards the Spirit. He believes this to be an honest and good question. "I have never denied that I failed."

The Guardian takes a step back. "The way is open. Good luck, and may you find what you seek."

Shocked and rattled by the Ghost's questions, the small team takes a moment to regroup. Keira places a hand on Alistair's shoulder and he nods. "I'm alright." He removes his hand from hers and walks away. The mage looks over her companions, all seem a bit unnerved by the brief but uncomfortable encounter. Then something suddenly comes to her, the Guardian, he didn't question Cullen. Amell's eyes search the room and she finds him, sitting alone in the dark. Taking a seat beside him, she places a small hand on his forearm.

"Hey..." She gives him a small squeeze.

"You're wondering why he didn't ask me anything..." The Templar eyes remain focused on the stone beneath his feet.

Not wanting to lie, Keira agrees. "Well, kind of...yes."

Clearing his throat, Cullen chews at the inside of his lip. "Well...he did when I came up here by myself, the first time."

"What did he ask you?" Curious as to why it as alright to bear all their issues at their feet, but not his. She suddenly finds this odd. Maybe she's even a bit jealous at the fact that he got some sort of privacy. "Sorry...that was rude of me." She's apologizing more for her private thoughts, and not for her actual question.

"No...it's alright." Taking a deep breath, he folds his hands together. "He...uhm...he asked if I regret leaving the Tower...if I feel like I'm betraying the order and Greagoir..." There's more to it than he's telling, but he doesn't think she needs to know all of it. What he's leaving out is. _"Do you regret leaving the Tower? And do you feel as if you're betraying the Order and your Mentor, Greagoir, knowing that you harbor feelings for a mage?"_

"I'm assuming you answered yes...otherwise I don't think he would have asked." Keira squeezes his arm again.

"Yes..." He stares at the end of his tattoo peeking out from under his bracer. Closing his eyes, he sighs. "Maker...yes..." He admits for the first time out loud, among others.

* * *

The riddles are answered, the puzzle is solved and the inner demons have been defeated. After all that, Keira had to face Jowan, not the real Jowan, but she felt it did her some good. Weird, how arguing with the spirit in the guise of a someone you once knew can bring you some sort of peace. Now, they stand before an alter, with a wall of flames in their way. The Ashes are just out of reach.

The mage reads the small inscription on the stone slab. Rolling her eyes, she stands. "You guys are..." She looks at the elf. "Alright, well most of you are not going to like this."

"What?" Cullen rubs the back of his neck. "Another dragon?"

"Uhm well...no..." The mage places her staff against the slab of marble. "The good news is, it's really easy..." She takes off her cloak and Alistair notices her odd behavior.

"So what's the bad news?" The prince asks, a bit uneasy.

"Well...basically, we need to get undressed and cross that." She points to the flames.

"What?!" Both former Templars shout in unison.

"I'll take that dragon now please." Alistair huffs.

Cullen can feel sweat forming at his brow. "I second that notion."

"Come now...at least if we die, we will do so while enjoying the view of each others..." Zevran begins taking of his cloak and gear.

Alistair rolls his eyes. "Shut up, would you."

"Now, now...I've seen you in the river my friend, you have nothing to be ashamed of." The elf continues to remove his clothing, as no one has even budged yet.

"You...what?!" Alistair feels the heat rising up his neck.

Seeing no other way, Cullen removes his breast-plate while shaking his head. "Lets...lets just get it over with. Just...everyone keep your eyes on the ground..."

"But our fearless leader is so tender and..." The Antivan elf does not finish his sentence, the glare that he's receiving from the former Templar is more than alarming.

Stripped of all their clothing, Keira can't help but let her eyes look over her friends. "I don't know what you're so worried about." She smiles when she notices that both Templars are holding, covering their manhood.

Taking a deep breath, Amell takes a leap of faith and walks across the flames. Seeing that she was unharmed, and is now waving at them from the other side, the men decide to follow suit.

"You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet." The Guardian appears and walks past the flames. "You have walked the path of Andraste, and like her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself, worthy." The Spirit bows his head in respect. "You may approach the Sacred Ashes." And with that said, the walls of fire disappear and they are left free to retrieve their belongings.

Fully dressed and armored, they climb the stairs to the Ashes. They reach the top, Cullen drops to a bended knee, lowers his head and says a silent prayer.

"I didn't think anyone could succeed in finding Andraste's final resting place...but here...here she is." Alistair runs a hand over his mouth, still in awe.

"I wish Thalia could have seen this." Keira takes a few uncertain steps closer.

"Nice vase...I should get one for my house." Zevran chirps, uninterested.

Carefully, the mage removes the lid and places a pinch of the Ashes into a pouch which she then seals and hides in her pack. She replaces the lid, takes one last look, and lets the moment set in. She'll never see this again and she knows it. Keira taps Cullen on the shoulder and signals the rest of her companions to leave.

Sten stands near a hidden passage. "There is a way out, here."

Seeing the snow at his feet, the mage knows that it's already time to dress for the weather. How she longs to be in a climate that's more comfortable. Wrapping their cloaks around themselves, the small company heads out into the open once more. The walk back will not be as long as their trek had been on the way here. For once, a bit of luck is shinning on them.

Zevran, quicker in the snow, scouts on ahead, making sure no one is waiting to ambush them. The wind begins to howl once more and the snow falls thicker with each passing moment. Cullen follows the path that the elf created, while Keira, Alistair and Sten slowly follow behind. Feeling the cold passing through him, he clings to his cloak a bit tighter. Wincing, trying to see through the falling snow, Cullen shields his brow with his hand. He can just make out the cave at the side of the mountain.

"Not much further." He shouts back and sees that Amell is looking at the same spot he was. Smiling, she locks eyes with him, then her smile fades. He can tell something isn't right.

"Thalia..." Her eyes roll back. "Cullen...help..." The mage falls face first into the snow.

"Keira!" Rushing through the ever amounting blanket of snow, Cullen pushes his way back to her. "Keira!" Her cloak is already almost completely covered by a sheet of white. The Templar tosses his shield and sword aside and turns the little mage onto her back.

"Keira!" He shouts shaking her shoulders.

"What happened?" Alistair is shouting, trying to talk over the wind of the mountains is always a challenge.

"I don't know. She just passed out." Cullen removes his gauntlets, and clears the slush from her face. "She's frozen." He sees that a few locks of her hair are turning white, he looks to Alistair and they both know what's wrong. "The caves, the dragon, the Gauntlet...it must have been too much..."

"Don't forget this lovely weather...I'm sure that's not helping." Alistair hands Sten, Cullen's weapon and shield.

"A soldier must never intrust his weapons to someone else." The Qunari, almost refuses to carry these things offered to him.

"Yeah...kind of not worried about that right now. If we don't find a way to warm her up...she could die...or worse..." Alistair removes his cloak and wraps it around the mage.

"You'll freeze." Cullen picks up the mage, huddles her close to his chest and stands.

"I got her staff, I'm gonna jog on up ahead... make sure the way is clear and hopefully me and the elf can get a fire started." Seeing the other man nod, the prince jogs towards the cave.

"Amell...hang on...we're almost there." Marching on, the Templar ducks his head and presses forward.

* * *

It's been about a day, Ty figures, and night-time is almost making an appearance. If they're not back by morning, he judges, he might have to head towards Redcliffe to find some help. Sighing, he adds more wood to the fire, and then her hears someone running towards them.

"Funny elf." Sandal points and starts laughing.

Zevran descends the staircase. "Add more logs to that fire my friend."

"What? Why?" Ty's confused, but does as he told.

"She needs it. We don't want out leader to die now, do we?" Zevran makes his way to the wood pile and helps the other elf ready the flames.

Concerned, Bodahn starts preparing something for their friends to eat. "What happened?"

"Well...long story short. We had to fight a lot of things, including a very large dragon, then we had to deal with a bored spirit who wanted us to jump through hoops for his entertainment. We managed to retrieve the ashes...but our fearless leader, I'm afraid it's all been a little too much for her." The Antivan elf then heads towards the cart. "My dwarven friend, please tell me you have some extra blankets and lovely teas in there..."

"As a matter of fact..." The dwarf heads to his cart and begins his search.

"Is she going to die?" Ty looks at the staircase, waiting for the rest of the group to make their appearance.

"I'm not sure. The Templar said that if we can manage to keep her warm...raise her body temperature...maybe she'll survive." The bronze elf sighs, worried.

Then, Ty spots them, the two former Templars and the Qunari, racing down the stairs. Quickly Ty jogs to meet up with Alistair and Sten, he relieves them of the sword, shield and staff, and hopes that helps with giving them a moment to regain their strength. Cullen, carrying Keira, continues marching towards the fire. Placing her gently onto the ready bed, he removes their cloaks and tosses them aside.

"We need to get the wet clothing off...as well as anything metal..." He pulls out a dagger, cuts her belt and tosses that aside as well.

"Do not forget that." Zevran points to her bodice. "I'm not being perverted. It's restrictive, it will not allow for good circulation. You will not be able to get her warm while she still wares that."

Not really knowing much about female clothing, Cullen decides to take the more advanced opinion of the elf in this matter. Using his blade, he cuts through the leather straps, pulls the rest of the material from under her and hands it off. Next he removes her boots.

"This is exactly why we need another woman on hand at all times." He states, frustrated with his awkwardness.

"If you would like..." Zevran offers, but not in the way they all expected him to.

"Appreciated, but no." The Templar debates with himself. He's seen her naked a few times, not by choice, it was always under grim circumstances. And just hours ago... "Get me a sheet and pass me my pack."

Ty returns with a large brown blanket. "All I could find."

"It's fine." The Templar takes the sheet. "Thank-you."

"Here..." Alistair kneels beside Cullen. "What do you need?"

"A shirt. A long one. And please, sit on the opposite of her." Cullen points to her side. "All of you, thank-you for your help. But please, for her dignity, do turn around."  
He drapes part of the blanket over his shoulder and hands the prince the other half. "Do the same, it's the only way to shield her and you're the only other person I can think to trust."

Now understanding what is taking place, Alistair can feel his cheeks burning. "Alright..." He secures the sheet over his right shoulder. Now, even if someone were to accidentally look this way, their view would be obstructed. "Good thinking. I can close my eyes, if you don't mind."

"I need your help." Cullen pleads silently with the other man. "We were once both men of faith, surely we can do this. And if we don't, she may die."

Gulping back his worries, Alistair agrees to carry on, all business-like. They manage to remove all of her clothing except for her lower under garments, they decide to leave those on, seeing as how they seem to be dry. Cullen chooses a clean beige cotton shirt. Slipping it gently over her head, Alistair notices that Cullen seems to be familiar with this. Maybe, he's had to have done this for her before. Dread crawls over the prince as to the reasons why the Templar might have had to dress her prior to this.

"Alright, I think that's all we can do there." Cullen lowers the blanket and uses it to wrap the mage with.

"She's going to freeze on this cold stone ground." Alistair speaks in a hushed tone. "You and I both know that those furs and sheets won't do her much good."

"Well what are we to do?" The Templar unties the straps to his chest plate. "I'm not about to have us all march until we reach calmer weather." Frustrated, he throws his armor to the ground.

"No..." Alistair knows he's going to be treading on dangerous grounds here. "Body heat can help."

"What are you suggesting?" The Templar knows, what the prince is getting at. "Are you suggesting that one of us crawl under the covers with her?" Cullen snickers. "No, I can't allow this."

"I thought you'd say that." Alistair raises a brow. "So you do it. Or let me. Or would you rather see the Crow beside her."

Alistair grabs the other man by the collar of his chain mail. "Listen, I'm not about to let her die, because of what you got going on in there." He presses his index against the Templar's chest. Cullen's eyes grow wide. "That's right, I know...and I won't say anything...but I'm not about to let her die because you feel any of this is inappropriate."

Shoving the larger man back, Alistair scowls in Cullen's direction. "Now either you take off your armor, and get in beside her...or so help me, Andraste, I'll do it myself. I'm just assuming she'd be more comfortable waking up to a familiar face...if she wakes up..." The prince allows his shoulders to slump.

Putting his personal concerns aside, Cullen removes his armor has a quick bite to eat and settles in beside her. To his surprise, not one person in their circle makes any sort of remark. He assumes Alistair either told them of what's going on, or they all agree it's the only thing to be done.

"Pleas, Maker if there's a way..." He whispers as he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. "Trade my life for hers..." He pleads, hoping he can still keep his promise to an old man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Has, and will always be, one of my fave chapters. Don't know why really, it just is. Hope you all enjoyed it. Please R&R!


	13. Chapter 13 : Old Men and Battles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I like this chapter, it's not so action-y, but it's a bit tender here and there and demonstrates everyone's character a little more. I hope you enjoy. FYI the next chapter will have...'scenes' in it. Rated M for a reason people. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer : This is for fun...Bioware runs the show.

**Chapter 13 : Old Men and Battles ******

The eldest of the Couslands, Fergus, sits in the main hall in Redcliffe's Castle. Worn to the core, his body slumps lower into the large chair. Haunted by new memories, he rubs his tired brow.

_"Are you ever going to get me a real sword, Father?"_ Fergus can still here the voice that he had heard while in the Fade. The demon, in the guise of his son, had sounded so much like Oren. Oriana, he could have sworn it was her cooking at the hearth. But none of it was real. It was all some sort of trick, to keep him there. Even when Thalia had showed up, he still wanted to believe that this place he was in, was real. Although, deep down, he knew it to be a lie.

Stretching his back against the frame of the wooden chair, he attempts to shake off the pain this recent memory causes him. Now, in the company of Templars and Mages, the group awaits Irving's word on the conditions of both Connor and the Arl. Fergus can't help but feel a small glimmer of hope in the pit of his belly. Since this campaign had started, there's been nothing but destruction and grief. Maybe all their efforts will finally be rewarded. Maybe, they've managed to keep a family together. A father and son with the chance to be reunited. The flicker, he felt early, grows with optimism.

"He won't be able to do anything about the Arl's condition...but maybe he can do something about the boy." Kate slouches in a chair, tired with the long journey it took to get here.

"Maybe..." The elf answers blankly, while gazing out the broken window. Feeling a strong hand squeezing her shoulder, she turns to find Fergus smiling at her warmly. "I'm worried...they should have been here as well."

Continuing his smile, the creases near his eyes deepen. "They journeyed into the mountains, chances are they ran into some bad weather. We'll give them another day...if they do not arrive by then, we'll head out to look for them." He tries to ease her concern.

Taking in a deep breath, the elven mage lets her eyes linger back to the view beyond the village. "I just hope that weather is all they ran into...but the chances of that are very slim."

"I'm sure they'll all return my lady." Again, he tries to console her troubled mind.

"Yes but in what condition?" Her hands grip tightly at her staff and she straightens her posture. "I sense something is wrong..."

Fergus's brow knits with confusion. "What...? You mean, you and Keira...have some sort of link?"

"A bond." She corrects him. "Probably because we've always been close. It's not uncommon." Thalia breathes out heavily, frustrated with not knowing how the other group is doing.

The only thing Fergus can think of to show his support, is to continue to grasp her shoulder.

"I don't feel that she's in pain...but something is most definitely wrong...exhaustion...I think she's reached her limit and hasn't been taking care of herself..." The elf's eyes continue to watch the horizon as the son slowly begins to set. "Keira..." She whispers. "Where are you?"

* * *

The cart shifts and jolts slightly as it hits a rock. The motion wakes Alistair, he looks around the darkened interior to make sure that nothing has toppled over. Still asleep beside him, Keira continues her deep slumber, her skin still cold to the touch. Studying her features, he notices that the white in her hair has vanished. The temperature in the air has changed, they must be far enough from the mountain now he assumes.

_How long have I been asleep?_ Just as the thought occurs, he hears a sharp whistle and the carriage comes to a complete stop. He can hear footsteps making their way towards the back of the carriage. The latch to the small wooden door is pulled back and the curtains are pushed aside. Alistair can tell by the position of the stars in the sky, that he'd been asleep for a very long time.

"How's she fairing?" Cullen hoists himself up and slides in to sit beside the sleeping mage.

"Still feels cold to the touch, but her hair is back to normal." Stretching, the prince removes himself from the sheets. "How long have I been asleep?" He figures the Templar Knight is about to say _'a few hours'._

"Almost a full days worth." The Templar takes off a gauntlet and checks the little mage's forehead.

Shocked, Alistair hurries to put on his boots. "What? A day? You didn't think to wake me?" He continues to scurry about as he searches for the rest of his belongings.

The Knight pays no attention to the prince's concerns. "You haven't slept well in weeks. You didn't wake...I saw no reason to disturb you." Motioning with his chin, Cullen informs Alistair of their current status. "We're making camp. We'll continue on in the morning. Redcliffe is just another day's march now."

"Ok..." The prince grabs his armor and sword. "Who's cooking? I'm starving."

"Ty managed to snare a couple of rabbits." The Templar descends from the small carriage. "Zevran is going to make some broth with some elf root in it...We need to figure a way to wake her...even just for a few moments...she hasn't eaten in days..."

Alistair looks over his shoulder to the sleeping mage, then slides out of the cart. "Even if she does wake..."

"She won't have much strength." Cullen finishes for him. They both know that Keira will more than likely be needed to aid with whatever preparations that will take place at Redcliffe. If Thalia hasn't arrived at the Castle yet, they'll still need to administer the Arl with a cure.

"So what's the plan?" Alistair looks over the encampment and can see that everyone is busying themselves. Bodahn and Sandal are cataloging and organizing their goods, Sten is preparing a fire, while the two elves are skinning the rabbits.

"Get the Antivan to ready that drink." The Templar removes his sword and places it at the edge of the cart. "I'll wake Amell."

The prince heads in the direction of the rogues, while the Templar climbs back into the carriage. Just as he's about to lightly rock the mage, she begins to stir. Pulling his hands back, he sits back, resting on his knees.

"Amell?" He waits. Again the dark-haired woman moves slightly. "Can you move?"

Groaning, Keira tries to slowly sit, but quickly falls back down. Instantly, the Templar is at her side. "Try not to move too fast...you don't have much energy..."

"W-when's...the last time I ate..." She licks her dry chapped lips. "Or...drank?" Pushing the hair from her face, her eyes study her surroundings.

"Days ago...we've been...unsuccessful at waking you...or getting you to drink anything." Carefully, he places his right hand behind her neck and skull and lifts gently. "Alistair is going to bring you something to drink."

As if on high alert, the prince shows up, hot mug in hand. "Makers ass..." He places the cup at the edge of the cart and blows on his palms. "Did he have to make it directly in the damn cup?" Feeling eyes on him, Alistair looks up to see Cullen and Keira staring at him. "You're...you're awake..." His lips form a thin smile, then he notices Cullen glance at the beverage. "Right..."

The Templar takes the drink from the other man. "It's hot..." He places it between Keira's hands and watches as she blows a light frost over it, cooling it to the perfect temperature.

"Better..." She quivers.

With his left hand, the Templar aids the mage to bring the cup to her lips. "Slowly..." He reminds her. Watching her drink the liquid, he can't help but feel a sense of relief to know that she's awake and eating. Smiling, Cullen looks back to the other man who returns the smile.

"I'll get the elf to make more." Comforted with knowing that she seems to be out of danger, the prince's grin widens. Alistair taps the side of the cart with his open palm and heads back to the fire.

The mug now empty, Cullen removes it from the mage's shaking hands. "More?" He asks, hoping the beverage is doing her some good. She nods and his smile broadens. He places her head gently back down onto her pillow. "I'll be right back."

The mage grabs hold of his wrist. "Alistair will bring it...please...stay..." Her eyes are closed, resting.

"Alright." His lips form a thin line. "I hope...that you're...not...uhm...angry with us. You know...for having to..."

"Cullen...it's alright...had to be done. Thank-you." Her fingers follow the neckline of the long shirt covering her body. "I could have caught my death."

Rubbing his hands together, Cullen chews at his inner lip and leans to his side. Sore. "Me and Alistair...we've been...uhm well...we've been taking shifts, staying or sleeping by your side...b-but only to keep you from freezing to death." The Templar stares at his hands, suddenly ashamed of what they've done without her consent.

The mage opens an eye. "You know...even when my eyes are closed...I can still tell when you're chewing on the inside of your mouth." The mage snickers. "There's nothing to be ashamed of...you were all doing what you thought was best." Keira exhales slowly.

"Here we are. Another order of steaming rabbit and elf root...something or other." Alistair sees the glum look on Cullen's face. "You told her?"

"Yes, he did. And it's alright." The mage answers calmly.

The Templar takes the second round of broth from Alistair and again aids Keira to drink it. "We're about a day from Redcliffe." He informs.

Keira's brow lifts, with the sudden realization that she needs to get better, and in a hurry. "Alright." She takes one last sip of her liquid meal and decides that she's had enough. Pushing the mug away, she licks her lips. She can feel the effects of the root in her system. Her eyes feel heavy. "You should eat too. You guys must be starving."

Cullen nods to Alistair. The Templar climbs out of the cart, rubs his hands on his pants, and begins to close the curtains.

"You're coming back...right?" She shifts to lay on her side.

"Uhm... I can... if you need me to." He had figured that since her condition seemed much better, that she would be good to rest on her own.

"I'm freezing..." She says in a tired voice.

Alistair shares a concerned look with the other Templar. The mage is already surrounded and covered with furs and blankets. Again, Cullen is chewing his lower lip, thinking.

"Ty." He looks to the young elf, knowing he's the fastest in the group. "Do you remember that merchant we saw a few paces back, heading in the opposite direction?"

The elf ponders a moment then nods. "Yeah, the dwarf."

"Right...do you think you can catch up with him?" Cullen begins searching through his pack.

"Yeah, probably take me about half a candle mark to get to him and back. Why?" The rogue shrugs his shoulders.

Cullen places a leather pouch in Ty's hand. "See if you can get some bear skins at a decent price. Please. Whatever is left after that, is yours."

Eyes growing wide, Ty understands his task. Hooking his thumbs in his back pack straps, he strides off in the merchants direction.

"Those furs probably aren't that expensive. There are bear everywhere..." Alistair informs the other man.

"I know...but having an incentive, will make him run that much faster. Besides, it's not like I need the coin." Cullen explains while he heads to the fire pit in search of something to satisfy his aching stomach.

After eating and quickly washing up, the time has gone by rather quickly. And on time, Ty comes jogging down the path, a large grin splayed across his face. "Got the greedy bugger to give me four furs, some water skins and some clothing for Keira." Stopping just a few feet from the Templar, he pulls his pack from behind him and pulls out all that he has purchased.

"Right...Clothing." Cullen had completely forgotten that he had shredded some of her clothing. Although, she did still have her robes, it's still nice to have more on hand. "So what were you left with?"

"Nothing, Ser." Ty grins. "We're all family now. Anything we need, we provide for each other. Sides, we're Wardens. Not like we'll be buying houses or anything anytime soon." He winks in the large man's direction.

"Good point..." Cullen has a moment of clarity. The elf is right. They won't be buying houses, or spending their coin on things like furniture or linens. What they need is anything to do with combat, survival or knowledge. That's it. "So...what else did you get?"

"Lots. All stuff we needed though. A few potions. Antidotes for basic things. Food." Ty keeps on pulling things from his pockets, pouches and boots. "Cookies for Sten." He hands those off to the Qunari, lets face it, a happy Sten is a good Sten to have around. "Metal Polish for Zev...uhm lets see...oh...new bracers for you." Ty hands Cullen bracers with the symbol of Andraste etched into them. "A better pack for Alistair...some candles...a set of daggers...that's for me."

The elf's eyes brighten when he finds what he's been looking for at the bottom of his pack. "This...is for Keira." He hands Cullen a folded piece of cloth. "It's Dalish...he said it's a Circlet."

The Templar opens the cloth to find a beautiful headband made of silver. Placed in the front and on the sides, are clear quartz crystals, set in dalish knots.

"I got it for a good price. The man doesn't know his stuff that's for sure." Ty beams. "See, it's suppose to help with mana and energy conservation...and it's enchanted with air and ice elements."

"Good buy!" Alistair pats the elf hard on the back, while taking a bite from an apple.

"I thought so." The elf continues to smile.

The Templar attempts to hand the item back. "I want you to give this to her."

"What? You paid for it?" The rogue takes the headpiece back, baffled.

"True, but you were the one that worked for it...knew what it was to begin with. It'll mean a lot to her knowing you thought of her." The Templar explains, his features sincere and warm.

"Alright." The elf returns the smile, nods and heads back to the fire.

"If I'm not awake by sunrise..." The Templar looks to the Bastard Prince.

"Right...we need to get there as soon as possible. The Arl and his family are counting on us. I'll wake you."

With that said, Cullen tosses the bear furs into the cart, climbs into the back of the carriage, shuts the wooden door and slides the curtains together. Using what little light he has to see, he removes his armor, lies down beside the mage and does the best he can to cover them with the animal hide. Amell shifts and tries to sit up, slowly she pushes up with her elbows.

"Are you hungry? D-do you need me to get you something?" Quickly sitting up, and steadying the mage with his hands, Cullen tries to look beyond her strands of hair to see her face. "Water?" With his hands on her upper arms, he can feel that she's still icy cold.

"No..." She places a hand on his arm. "Just trying to see if I can sit up...on my own." Feeling dizzy, Amell slowly allows herself to lie back down. "You came back?"

Clearing his throat, the Templar replaces the blankets and furs back over the mage. "Uhm...well you asked me to."

"I didn't think you would return." Her voice is low. She regards herself as a mage and nothing more. With her health doing better than before, why should anyone trouble themselves any further.

"I-I see."

Her small fingers tug at the hem of his shirt. Then he sees her pat the empty spot beside her. "I know I'm making you uncomfortable as it is...I just don't know what else to do...other then setting this thing on fire...to keep warm."

"It's...it's fine." Pulling the covers up to allow himself to rest comfortably beside the little mage, he can feel the waves of cold coming from her. "I don't understand why you're so cold."

"Me either." Without asking, Keira places the side of her face against his chest, wraps an arm around his frame and curls a leg along his thigh.

Not knowing what to do, the Templar keeps his hands frozen in mid-air and lifts his chin. "Uhm...Keira?"

"Mmm?" Her hair tickles his throat and neck so he tries to blow it aside. "I'm sorry...but... you're so warm."

Sleeping beside her, while she was unconscious, was alright with him. It had to be done. However, now that she's in full control of her actions and well aware of everything that's going on, this is awkward on a level he can't explain. He starts to debate if he really should let the Antivan Elf take a shift. Then he mentally kicks himself for even having such a thought.

Hands still frozen in time, Cullen clears his throat. "Amell...I-I..." He can feel the heat rising up his neck and he wills his heart not to pace any faster. _Nerves._ "Do you...I-I mean...that is to say, you're not wearing much...and..."

"Oh be quiet. You're fully clothed." She stifles a yawn, and then places her arm back around his frame. "I won't tell anyone, promise...there feel better?"

Eyes still wide. Tired now gone, replaced with fully awake. Cullen gulps down a nervous lump in his throat when the mage pulls his hands down and forces him to embrace her. "You're not going to be struck down by the Maker and I'm certainly not going to harm you. Now...get over it, and sleep."

_Right_...He silently mocks her. Resting his chin on the crown of her head, he sighs. She'll surely be the death of him. _Damn that old man, for making him make such a ridiculous promise, damn Jowan for his stupid antics and damn his own heart for being...human._ When the mage stirs, and a cool breath escapes her lips and makes contact with his exposed skin at the opening of his shirt, Cullen sighs once more and stares at the ceiling of the darkened cart. _You're doing this on purpose._ He curses the Maker, knowing his creator is probably just loving every bit of this.

Finally, she settles and falls asleep. Her nose and lips are resting against the bit of skin he has bared. He hopes beyond anything that his chest hair and loud thumping heart doesn't do anything to wake her. "Please...just sleep...without moving." He begs in a whispered tone. With no options left, he shuts his eyes and tries to remember how many stairs are in the Tower.

* * *

The rays of the morning, warm the side of Thalia's face. Stretching from where she slept, against the window sill, she rubs the back of her neck. A large woolen cloak, with the Highever Symbol embroidered into it, falls from her shoulders as she sits up. Yawning, she picks the cloth up from the floor and wraps it around herself. Sighing, she rubs at her eyes.

"Still no sign of them?" Leliana inquires, trying to hide her concern.

"No...none yet." The elf looks to the rogue, and then over the entire room. Someone has restocked the fireplace, there's a fresh pot of tea on the table and Kate's hound is snoring up a storm. Her eyes drift over everyone. Irving is standing before the fire, his arms crossed behind his back. Kate is resting gently against her mabari on the floor, while her brother lies awkwardly along a wooden bench.

"Where's Morrigan?" She looks up to the rogue.

"Over there." She points to a crow, nestled on a beam in the ceiling.

"Clever." The elf admits out loud. Feeling stiff, she rises from her seat and uses her staff for extra assistance. Arching her back, she decides to have a talk with the Senior Enchanter. Trying for stealth, she tip toes towards her elder.

"I may be old, but I still know when someone is sneaking up on me." He announces, without so much as glancing in her direction.

Frowning, the elf stands beside him. "Good morning Senior Enchanter."

"Good morning dear." His eyes drift to her then back to the fire. "I must say...I do not have the acquired taste to properly appreciate your new choice in clothing."

Blushing, the elf wraps the cloak around herself more tightly. "They are Tervinter...Senior Enchanter."

Smiling, Irving nods. "I know." The old man folds his arms in front of his chest. "You wish to know of the boy and his father."

"Yes...were you able to do anything for them?" Her eyes beam with excitement, hoping for some good news for once.

Shaking his head, Irving sighs. "Unfortunately, I believe I'm either too old, or that the past few days events have taken far too much out of me." He tries to offer a reassuring smile. "But...I do believe once Amell arrives, that you two will be able to handle the situation just fine."

"What about the rest of the mages you brought?" The elf can't understand this man's logic.

"None are healers and the rest are far too young to tackle a demon in the Fade. Besides, I will need their help to allow Keira to pass into the fade." Irving takes a few steps closer and rests his hands on the young elf's shoulders. "You my dear...you'll have a great responsibility...not only will you have to aid with healing the Arl, but you'll probably be needed to make sure that the young lad survives as well."

"But no pressure." Fergus exclaims, while still laying along the bench.

Gulping down her fear, Thalia makes her way back towards the window. How is she going to tell them she wonders. How is she going to tell Keira, that most of the people they looked up to, either died in a horrible way, tortured and turned into abominations, or sided with Uldred, using blood magic as their weapon. How is she going to tell Cullen, that most of his brethren were murdered in cold blood, defending the Tower and it's inhabitants. Rubbing her temples, she begins to rehearse what she plans on telling her friends when they have a moment to spare.

As the elf looks out the window, she notices something, hours must have passed, because the sun is at a different spot in the sky and the air feels cooler. "Maker, have I been standing here this entire time?" Again, the Highever cloak falls from her shoulders.

"Yes, you have... and muttering to yourself all day as well." Fergus retrieves the cloak from the ground and drapes it over her shoulders. "You should eat..." He tries to convince the elf, but then something outside catches his eye.

Seeing him wincing, trying to focus on something outside, Thalia looks to his face, then decides to try to see what he's looking at. "Is that...?" She approaches the window and tries to stretch out her site further. "It is!" She claps her hands together.

The elf can see Keira, slowly walking across the bridge, her staff in one hand, and she seems to be using the Antivan's arm for assistance while walking. Patiently, the elf keeps pace with the dark-haired mage. "That's odd." Thalia notes and looks to Fergus.

"I'll inform the Guards and Irving of their arrival." Briskly, he takes off in the direction of the large wooden doors. Surana can hear him issuing commands and orders to the people on the other side.

"She must be ill..." Leliana peaks over Thalia's shoulder.

"Or hurt." The elf's gaze then lands on Bodahn's cart. Alistair and Cullen seem to be helping the dwarves set up shop in the small town. Selling goods when they can, is a very good idea. Then she spots Ty and Sten, already meeting up with Fergus and Kate. "I need to see her."

The elf deposits Fergus's cloak on a chair and dashes down the staircase, down the hall and out the main doors. "Keira!" She can see the dark-haired mage let go a breath of relief. The elven mage runs as fast as her little legs will let her. Pushing past Sten and Ty, a smile growing wider as her feet bring her closer to her best friend.

"Thalia!" Amell has her arms wide open, ready to embrace her long time friend. "I was so worried about you." The elven mage all but crashes into her.

"Me? What about you?" She hugs her friend tighter. "You look horrible..." The little elf let's go, takes a step back and pushes her friends hair from her face. "Are you alright?" Concerned, she cups Amell's face with her hands.

"I'm fine...these fine, strong men made sure of that." The two women chuckle.

"Fine and strong. My dear Warden, that's two compliments in one sentence. You must be feeling better." Zevran replaces Amell's hand on his forearm and leads her towards the Castle. "But please, we need to get you inside. Once you've cleaned up and had something to eat, I'm sure you and you're lovely friend here can catch up." His eyes meet Thalia's, trying to hint for her to persuade her friend.

"Right...I'll have Leliana prepare a bath. And I'll get you something to eat." She chirps, knowing that they still have much to do. As the trio makes their way to the entrance, Thalia can't help but glance over her shoulder to the two men at the cart. She sighs and continues on her way.

* * *

Sweating, grimy, tired and sore, Cullen follows Alistair as they head into the Redcliffe Castle. As they make their way up the stairs, Cullen begins removing his bracers. Rolling his head from side to side, he can't help but notice the lack of Templar Knights and Greagoir. He knows what's about to take place, and knows from experience that there should be far more Templars and mages on hand. He searches their helms, looking for a set of eyes he might recognize. All these faces, they are of the new recruits, the ones that had just arrived not but a month before he left with Duncan. Something doesn't feel right.

Alistair continues walking, but Cullen doesn't follow. Instead, he decides to go have a chat with Irving. The old man is standing near the hearth. As the Templar approaches, the Enchanter turns just in time to greet him.

"Ah Cullen...so nice to see you again." The old man offers a respectful nod that Cullen returns.

"Senior Enchanter Irving."

"Polite as always. And I see that you've kept your promise." Irving smiles warmly, pleased with the former Templar's work.

"I have." Cullen keeps his head bowed.

"And you will continue to do so?" The old man is testing him, and he knows it.

"I will. As I originally promise Enchanter." Cullen places his heels together. "But I do have some questions Senior Enchanter. Where's Greagoir and the Senior Templars?"

Shifting his weight, Irving takes a step closer to the fireplace. "I always knew you to be very observant..." The old man rubs his beard. "You might need to take a seat..."

* * *

After she bathed and got dressed in clean clothing, Thalia got Amell to sit at a small dinner table, where she told her everything that had taken place in Kinloch. Now, with this new disaster registering in her mind, Keira can't help but feel sick to her stomach. Covering her mouth, Keira lets out a tormented cry.

"No...we'll have to go back...we need to..." Tears well up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry...I wanted to wait until later...but I thought you should know." The pale elf places a small hand on her friends.

Shaking herself from her daze, Keira swallows hard. "No...no...it's...you were right to tell me...I-I...what are we going to tell Cullen?" Her eyes are still wet and and swollen, she dabs at them with her sleeve.

"I...don't know." Thalia exhales a shaky breath.

"Where's Wynne?" Keira's eyes search the room.

"She's been with the Arl, making sure his vitals stay the same. I haven't seen her much since we got here." The elf rolls her shoulders.

"And...you're ok?" Amell squeezes her friends frail hand.

"I'm uninjured,...I'll be alright...mentally...that might take a while. I've had more time to deal with this then you have." The two women sit in silence for a few moments. "We really should get out there."

The two mages, make their way back to the main hall. Everyone is ready and waiting. As they walk down the halls, Guards, Templars, mages and staff step aside to allow them to pass. When they enter the hall, Keira spots Cullen, staring off into nothing, looking grim. He's leaning forward in a chair, his arms resting on his knees. Her eyes meet those of Irving and she knows that he explained _everything_ to the former Templar.

Bringing her attention to the task at hand, Keira straightens her back, grips her staff and marches on. _You're their leader, you need to embody, confidence, strength and wisdom._ She tries to convince herself of the very same thing. The two women meet up with Irving. They decide that Keira will deal with Connor, and when Irving senses that the demon has been vanquished, Thalia will administer the Arl with the antidote.

"Good luck." Thalia hugs her friend. "I'll see you in a bit."

Smiling, Keira returns the embrace. "Make sure to get some rest after, ok."

"Deal." The elf releases her friend and they both head up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Personal side note, other then Cullen, right from the very beginning, I've always had a soft spot for Fergus. It's getting to be more evident as this story goes along. Since the first time I played Dragon Age Origins, I always had this story planned, beginning to end. I've always wanted him in it. I've been writing this story for years. As I post these chapters, I remember how much I love the character.


	14. Chapter 14 : All Messed Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Remember,'M' on this chapter. Viewer/Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> Disclaimer : Bioware Runs and Own all of Dragon age...this is just a bit of fun

**Chapter 14 : All Messed Up**

Hours have gradually passed by. Alistair is sure, that if they don't hear of some sort of progress soon, that his fellow former Templar will surely pace a trench into the stone floor. The prince glances back at the candle that they're using to keep track of time, and it sees that it's almost down to the last quarter. Rubbing his jaw, he notices the door to the hall opening. Irving emerges smiling.

"Your uncle is out of danger." The old man exclaims in a tone one would use when announcing the birth of a child. "And Keira will be done with Connor shortly...the demon has been defeated, but she must now lead the child through the Fade."

Cullen lets out a breath, relieved. "Right...well we should all get some rest."

The Enchanter nods. "Yes...and I've been informed that Lady Isolde has had her staff prepare as many rooms as they could for your stay."

"You're not staying?" Cullen is taken aback. "W-what...what if..." The Templar rests a hand on his hip while the other runs through his hair. "And Keira needs to talk to you...she's been having these episodes...and she has all these questions..."

"Wynne has decided to stay and help the Grey Wardens." Irving walks over to the Templar and tries to help the man calm down. "We've done all we can here...and we have much to do back at the Tower. The sooner we can depart..."

Cullen shakes his head. "I-I...understand." He answers in a shaky voice.

"Get some rest lad." Irving watches as Cullen retreats up the staircase.

Finding a small room with a single tiny bed, no window and only the bare essentials, Cullen decides to bunk here. There's no extra room for anyone to bother him, or to even sleep on the floor. In a separate room that was prepared for him, he takes a bath and changes his pants. He almost refuses when one of the Castle's chamber maids offers to wash his clothing. Seeing that this young woman only wished for something to keep her mind occupied, he couldn't refuse. Bare foot and shirtless, he carries his gear back to his room, deposits it on the table, and drops to the not so comfortable bed, beyond exhausted.

* * *

Connor is safe and happy in the arms of his mother. The Arl is doing just fine and is resting. The battle within the Fade has weekend the mage Amell further. Shoulders slumped, drained of all energy, Keira searches for somewhere, anywhere to rest. All the rooms that haven't been destroyed, are still in the process of being cleaned, or are occupied. She finds Thalia, sharing a bed with Kate and Leliana. Wynne she finds sleeping in a servants bed, Alistair and Sten are in another servants quarters, each sleeping on a small cot. Zevran is sleeping on a large sofa, Fergus and the mabari are stretched out before a fire pit. And Ty, she discovers him resting in the weirdest place, on the baking table in the kitchen. The mage is positive that he'll have hell to pay in the morning for that one, that is assuming the baker is still alive.

Every sofa, chair and corner in this place has been taken. Morrigan, Keira can only assume has decided to make camp outside. Taking a moment, she leans against the cold stone wall, she can't remember seeing Cullen anywhere. Surely, if she finds him, he'll allow her to sleep in the same room. Searching the halls on the top floor, she finds the Templar, in a room she's positive the lady in waiting's servant must of used.

The door creeks as she pushes it wide enough to enter. "Cullen?" She says in a low voice. The man doesn't move. His right arm is draped out beside him, while his left one shields his eyes. She can see his chest slowly rising and falling. _He's in a deep sleep._ Rubbing her hands together, then breathing into them to keep warm, she decides to enter and close the door behind her.

Quietly, she latches the door, and winces, gritting her teeth together when the click is louder then she expected it to be. Looking over her shoulder, she exhales silently, when she sees that Cullen's form hasn't moved. Keira pads silently across the floor, lifts the covers while biting her lower lip and climbs into bed. Sitting on the flimsy mattress, the boards of the bed shift and grind together. She shuts an eye and waits. Still the Templar doesn't move. The mage lies down, having no choice but to rest her head on his arm. She settles in beside the sleeping man, and shuts her eyes.

Just as the images of the days work leave her and she's about to fall asleep, Cullen bolts up. She can't see his features in the dark, but by the way he moved, she's certain that he's more then likely terrified of what might have crawled into bed with him. Inwardly she curses herself. Not only are they in a Castle that had monsters roaming its halls not long ago, but this poor man was just made aware of what happen to his comrades at the Tower.

"Cullen...it's me...Amell." She sits up, her hands are trying to find his form in the dark. She can feel the mattress dip when he moves, dazed and uncertain. "I'm going to cast some light...alright?" He doesn't answer, but she allows a small flame to appear in her hand. "Better?"

Shielding his eyes with his hand, he leans against the wall. "Keira...w-what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry...I know...I'm such a pain lately...but I couldn't find anywhere to sleep..." She begins to trail off. "Thalia, Kate and Leliana have to share a bed...Ty is on a table...and...and...I'm just so tired."

"Alright...alright..." He tries to focus his blurred vision. "You...just spooked me...that's all..." He stretches and stifles a yawn.

"I know...I know...sorry...I thought of it as you jumped..." She watches the man as he lies back down onto the now cramped bed, too tired to make sense of any of it. "Can I stay?"

"What?" He looks up at her, a bit lost as to what she's asking. "Oh...uhm..." He looks up and sees her eyes, dark and tired. Cullen shakes his head. "Sure..."

Smiling, the little mage puts out her flame and settles back down beside the Templar once more. Even though the heat coming from his body is very warming, she still shivers. Groggy, Cullen sits back up and leans towards the end of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Keira can only make out his silhouette moving around. The mattress moves again, she can see his darkened figure stretch his arms apart, then slowly lie back down. The covers over her body feel heavier, and there's a familiar material near her cheek.

"Oh. The furs...thank-you." She settles into the bedding further and pays no attention when he spoons behind her under the covers and places his arm back under her head. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he pulls her closer and rests the side of his face against hers. The mage figures he's just over tired and isn't really paying attention to what he's doing.

"You're welcome." He yawns, inhales deeply, then exhales. "Please...just...sleep. I'm so... tired."

"Shh..." She hushes him.

"I'm...so tired..." She can feel him nestle against her cheek and neck. When she tries to shift to get a little more comfortable, his arm over her abdomen flexes. Again, she hushes and drags her fingers along his forearm, hoping to soothe him. "They're all dead. And I wasn't there to...Stay here...you'll be safer...here..."

She can feel the guilt and pain forming a lump in her throat. How she wants to cry out for those lost at the Tower, their home. The man at her side, too overcome with grief and fatigue, can barely think straight. Her mind made up, she decides that they will return to the Tower. She needs to see who made it out alive and who didn't. Allowing a shaky breath to leave her lungs, she continues to gently rub the Knights arm.

Feeling a tear run down her cheek, she lifts a hand to wipe it. Cullen's frame shakes. The tear, is not her own. The Templar's arm flexes around her once more.

* * *

_It's warm._ Tiny fingers pull the hair at the back of his skull, and for some reason he finds this enjoyable. Lips move to his neck, and he groans. A soft tongue glides against his skin.

_What are you doing?_ His inner Templar is shouting, screaming at him. Cullen continues to allow _her_ access to explore his mouth with her tongue, he doesn't notice her tiny hands undoing his pant strings. Sliding a hand under her robe, he follows the smooth texture of her thigh up to her hip.

_I-I...I can't..._ A thought, passing through his mind. He pulls his hand away, and shakes his head.

_"It's fine."_ Keira kisses him again and makes her way towards his jaw. The Templar is trying to regain what little composer he has left. Her bottom lip and tongue are dragging along his jaw and chin.

He trails his palm down her ribs, grinds his hips into hers and he's rewarded with a moan. Her fingers scratch roughly down his sides as they reach his pant line. His arms begin to shake with anticipation and nervousness. A rough hand follows the length of her thigh and up her robe.

Quickly she unties the side of her clothing and lifts it over her head. His chest hair rubs against her bare body when he settles back over her. His mouth is at her neck once more, his hands on either side of her frame. She lifts her hips on instinct to meet his. A raspy groan forms in his throat. Her hands lower to his pants and she starts to push them down. His heart racing in his chest, he kicks off his trousers.

Just as he's about to meet with her lips once more, Cullen looks to her face to see her beautiful violet eyes.

_Violet?_

* * *

Sensing that the Templar is clearly distressed, the mage attempts to wake him. "Cullen. Wake up." Slowly, she turns. Holding his face in her hands, Keira tries again. "Please...wake up."

As if his subconscious heard her pleas, Cullen stretches and his ears pick up the sounds of her voice. "Amell?" His hands blindly search for her, his fingers find her hair. "Is that you?" At a lost as to what is happening, he stares at her silhouette, waiting for a sign. The mage says nothing.

"Maker...maybe it's not you...maybe...maybe I'm still there...with it. That Demon." Confused, he begins to chew at his bottom lip. "Or maybe, nothing is real...and I-I'm just going mad."

"Cullen...are you alright?" Concerned, she rests a hand on his knee.

"But in the Fade...nothing was the way it is in real life. No. Things smelt different, felt different...looked different...tasted different." The Templar Knight drags his hands over his face. "That's it!"

Briskly, Cullen reaches for the little mage beside him, pulls her to sit in his lap and kisses her, hard. Caught up in the moment, Amell closes her eyes and allows her tongue to meet his. Then, just as fast as the kiss began, it ends. Eyes wide open, Keira stares into the dark where she assumes his face is.

"HA!" The Templar releases his grip on her. The taste of her kiss and the scent of her hair, all match things from his memory. "I'm not mad!" He begins to laugh lightly. "It's all real...you're real." He continues to laugh to the point where he begins coughing.

The little mage doesn't make any sudden movements. She, however, isn't convinced whether or not he's completely lost it. "Cullen...what's going on?"

The laughter and coughing fits begin to slowly die down. The massive man begins to shiver. "I-I'm not sure..." He rubs at his bare arms and brings his knees to his chest.

Amell drapes one of the pelts over his frame and drags her hands up and down his upper arms. "Lets get you warm. Ok."

Cullen knods, knowing she can't see him, but feels it's the only response he can offer at the moment. Continuing to shiver, he brings his knees even closer. The beating of his heart slows down, but with each beat that passes, his eyes slowly close. "Keira...something's not right..."

"Alright. Lie down." The mage flicks her wrist and lights the near by candle. She has to force herself to swallow a gasp when she's finally able to see the extent of his condition.

In multiple spots along his body, black veins are visible and are slowly spreading. When the Templar looks up to see what she's doing, she covers her mouth. His eyes are slowly hazing over. "Maker...I need to find Wynne."

Groaning, he rolls over to his back. Obviously in pain, his body arches, he grinds his teeth together and passes out.

"Cullen!" She rushes to his side and takes a pulse reading from his wrist. It's slow and barely there.

Not knowing what else to do, she dashes down the hall to where she had seen Alistair sleeping. "Wake up!" She screams, terrified as she shoves open the door.

Alistair, scared beyond belief, jolts from his cot with his sword at the ready. "What's wrong?" His heart is racing.

Eyes brimming with tears, Amell races over to him, surrounds her arms around his bare torso and hugs him. "It's Cullen...I think he's dying..."

Grasping the distraught woman by the arms, he bends so that he can see her face. "Where is he? And what do we need to do?"

* * *

Fergus and Alistair, carefully haul the massive Templar Knight down the hall to the castle's infirmary. Cullen's feet drag as the two men continue to transport him to where Wynne, Morrigan, Thalia and Jowan await them.

"Why couldn't Sten help? This fellow isn't exactly light." Fergus glances to the right.

"Oh I don't know...maybe it's because he doesn't care." The bastard prince adjusts his grip on Cullen's belt. Using his foot, he kicks open the door and they drag the unconscious man to a cot.

Alistair studies the room and his eyes land on the blood mage. "What in the Maker's name is he doing here?" He points angrily at the cowering mage.

"He's agreed to help." Keira announces while entering the room.

"You're going to use blood magic? On a Templar?!" The prince is amazed.

"Yes." Amell continues about her business without the slightest hesitation. She places a bowl under each of Cullen's arms.

"And you don't think this is a bad idea?' Alistair can't comprehend this situation. He can't believe that anyone in this room is even considering this. Tired of seeing Keira wonder around like this is a normal situation, the prince grabs hold of her arm. "Don't you think he might be a bit pissed off when he wakes up...knowing you approved the use of blood magic on him?"

Violently, the little mage pulls her arm from his grip. "He'll die!" She stares into Alistair's eyes. "If we don't do this, he'll die! Between all the mages you see before you...this is the only solution we can come up with."

"But Keira...it's wrong." Alistair tries to reason with her.

"I'm sure he'll be upset...but it's better then the alternative. I've made my decision." The dark haired mage takes her place by the medical cot. "Alright, lets begin."

Alistair leans against a wall. He's not happy about the situation, but he hopes that their efforts are rewarded. "Let this work..."

Wynne begins making a small incision in Cullen's left arm, while Thalia does the same on his right. Morrigan stands beside Jowan, just to make certain the blood mage doesn't try anything foolish. After her task is done, Thalia makes her way next to Alistair.

"The cuts, are to allow the Lyrium to be forced out." She explains as the two eye Jowan's movements. "He's going to try to instruct the blood to force out anything that's not natural to the body through those two small incisions."

"I see." Alistair continues to watch as Jowan concentrates and shuts his eyes. The mage mumbles a few words and then a dark liquid begins to poor into the bowls.

"Wynne and Keira will constantly empty the bowls until all the Lyrium is out of his system." Thalia sighs.

"You don't agree with this?" Alistair glances at the bowl in Keira's hands, she's already replacing it with an empty one.

"I'm just...not sure it'll work." A tear trails down her cheek. "I really want him to live, Alistair." The elven mage sniffles. "He's always been there..."

Draping an arm over her shoulder, the prince pulls the elf into a light hug. "It'll work."

Hours creep by as bowl after bowl of black Lyrium is emptied from the Templar's body. As the last bowl is emptied, Jowan staggers and places his hands against the wall for support. He waves of Morrigan when she tries to help him come to a full stand. Wynne drags her index across each incision, her magic quickly knits the skin beneath her touch with little to almost no visible scar. The old woman places a hand on Amell's back.

"We've done all we can. It's up to him to recover. But be prepared, his body may be too damaged to repair itself." Wynne sighs. "I've always admired this young man. He's always been honorable and respectful. I do hope he pulls through."

Keira offers a smile and a nod of thanks, then takes a seat beside Cullen's bed.

Clearing his throat, Jowan kneels before his former friend. "I-I know it's not enough to make up for what I've done...or what I've put you and Thalia through. But...I just wanted you to know, before they decide what to do with me...that I truly am sorry. I might not ever have another chance to say it. I honestly hope he recovers. He always watched out for my two girls." He offers a weak smile. "And no matter what you both think of me...I'll always love you both."

Tears drifting down her face and not knowing what to say, Keira watches as the man, she once considered her friend, is led back to his sell by the guardsmen.

"What do you need of me?" Alistair plants himself in a chair next to the mage. "Anything. I need something to do."

A thought quickly forms. "I need all the preparations for when we leave to be done. We'll be heading to the Tower, I have questions for Irving and they may still need our help. Without them, the Arl and Connor would be dead. And we'll need their help to end the blight."

Clapping his hands against his knees, Alistair heads for the door. "How long until we leave?"

"Two days at most." Keira watches as the prince leaves with Fergus in tow.

Surana takes up Alistair's abandoned chair. "Do you think he'll wake by then? Even if he does, will he be fit to travel?"

"I hope so." The stressed mage sighs.

* * *

There's a terrible pain in his neck. Slowly Cullen sits up twisting his head from side to side. Pops and cracks relieve the tension in his neck. He feels like he'd been drinking for days on end. Rolling his shoulders, he swings his legs over the edge of the cot.

"Cot? Wasn't I in a bed?" Rubbing his neck, his eyes survey the room. The clattering of a jug hitting the floor catches his attention.

"Cullen! You're awake!" Keira rushes to him and wraps her arms around his neck.

Thalia is standing in the doorway, her hands covering her mouth. The elven mage begins to laugh and clap.

"W-what's going on?" The Templar doesn't like being left out of the loop, especially when it involves himself. With his question now in the air, his eyes catch a glance of Surana who leaves the room and shuts the door. "Keira?"

Thrilled with the fact that he's alive, the mage decides to go ahead and tell him of what took place. From the beginning, to the magic that saved his life. All the while, the Templar stares at her, his eyes never showing an ounce of any emotion. When she's done explaining her thought process and how the procedure actually worked, she adjusts her robes and sits and waits.

Chewing at her bottom lip and constantly focusing on the hem of her sleeves, she continues to wait.

"So..." Cullen's focus is on his tattooed forearm. "It came to that then..." He can't explain it. Is it ironic that the only way to save him from dying from Lyrium poisoning, was with blood magic? The Chantry had forced Templars to become dependent on a substance, that was in the end giving them abilities that were comparable to magic. Templars were a means to an end. Mages, maleficarum, blood mages, all hunted by them. Magic fought with magic. Slaves hunted by slaves. Now, here a Templar sits alive, unharmed, all thanks to a mage who studied the forbidden magics.

Cullen laughs out loud. "It's strange...almost everything t-that I've been taught...has been a lie."

Keira becomes a bit hopeful. "So you're not angered?"

The Templar begins searching the room for a shirt. "Angered? Why...because you saw it fit to let a man accused with poisoning the Arl, have complete control over my being...now my lady...why would you think that I would be angered?"

"I...I couldn't let you just die..." Amell calmly tries to defend her actions.

Cullen raises a hand. "I understand your reasoning...I do...I-I just don't know if I'm alright with it. I don't know what to think anymore." He gives up his search for his clothing and sits on the bed beside her, sighing out loud.

"I'm sorry...by the way." He begins to blush and she understands his meaning.

"Oh...no harm done." The mage smiles. "Can we call it even then?" She offers him her hand which he accepts and shakes.

"Right. Even."

* * *

Alistair has done a remarkable job. He'd convinced Eamon to supply them with everything they needed for their journey. New equipment, clothing, tents, food, the works. Even Bodahn's cart has been upgraded. As their small caravan leaves Redcliffe, Amell can't help but notice Alistair slowly trudging, his head and shoulders slumped. The dark haired mage makes her way to the bastard prince.

"I'm not going to let anyone make you do anything you don't want to." Keira takes out her staff and uses it as a walking stick. She's been on this road several times, and her feet still haven't adjusted to it.

"I think for the first time, you're someone who actually cares about what I want. Even Duncan use to keep me out of the fighting." Alistair adjusts his shield on his back and takes in a deep breath. "I don't know what I was expecting. I guess I was just hoping that maybe Eamon cared about me. Seems he'd just been planning this from the start."

"You can't really think that." The mage's eyes soften. "He might have been preparing you for this all your life, just in case. But I don't think he meant for this happen."

Alistair shakes his head in disbelief. "To think...the only time I ever felt accepted and cared for is within the ranks of the Wardens, or here..." Smiling in her direction, then picking up his pace, the bastard prince carries on. "Well, guess we'll just have to see what happens then won't we."

The mage grabs the former Templar by the wrist. "If you don't want to do it, then you won't."

"Thanks." Again, he displays a bright smile. "Now, lets go check on your former home, shall we?"

* * *

The moon shines down on the ivory Tower, Kinloch Hold. The Templar stands in the sands of the beach, gazing across the lake to his former home. The waters lap calmly against the shore line, the air is still and warm. Deep in thought, he strokes his chin. There's a branch that cracks behind him.

"Should we wait till day break to go across?" Thalia and Keira make their way to their guardian's side.

"No." Cullen sighs.

"I'm sorry about Liam." The elven mage tries to amend. "I...I know you two were good friends."

"I should have never left." He rubs his forehead with his thumb. "M-maybe I could have helped...somehow."

"You don't know that." Keira tries to console the man. "If you had stayed you might have..." She can't finish. A lump forms in her throat.

Cullen's eyes search the stars as he tilts his head back. "Maybe the Chantry is right..."

"What? That mages should be locked up, tortured, abused?" Keira becomes defensive, once more.

"No." The Templar Knight brings his gaze back to the lake. "I-I...don't know...maybe I could have made a difference...Maker why did I leave?"

"You forget? You're a Templar, you're charged with watching over these two mages before you...or did you forget?" The dark haired mage positions herself in front the man. "That's the reason you were forced to tag along, wasn't it? Greagoir wanted you to make sure we didn't get out of hand."

Cullen is using all of his training to hide his anger. His eyes glare down at the little mage who continues to spout her accusations. "No."

Unamused with this charade, Amell crosses her arms. "Then tell me, why. Maybe it's because you were afraid we'd run off. Scamper away from Duncan, become abominations and terrorize Ferelden."

"No." He matches the intensity of her gaze with his own.

"Because you promised Irving to protect us?"

Again all she receives as an answer. "No."

"Then why!? Tell me!" She throws her hands in the air, frustrated. "If you're that convinced that you shouldn't have left, then why did you bother coming at all?"

Shocked, and a bit insulted, the Templar brushes past her. Before he makes his way to the dock, he stops in his tracks. "I'm going to speak with Caroll, see if he'll let us cross the Lake."

"He's so frustrating." Keira places her hands in her hair and actually contemplates pulling it all out.

"Keira, seriously, we've all been through a lot. It doesn't matter why he ended up coming along with us. I'm grateful that he did." Thalia also begins to head to the boat. "We should get going."

Deciding to take a moment to cool down, Keira stares out over the lake. Maybe she's just a little uneasy being this close to her home. With everything that's happened in there, she's not sure she's ready to see it with her own eyes. Now that they're this close, she's not sure she really wants to see how many didn't make it. And the memories that place will bring back, both good and bad. She shivers.

"You know..." Alistair stands beside her, hands in his pockets, a piece of straw hanging from his lips. "I can't believe you don't get it."

"What are you talking about." That came out colder then she wanted.

Alistair sighs. "Why would a man leave behind everything he knows? Why would he leave behind other people he cared about? His beliefs, his comrades, his mentor and his home? What would be so important to a man that he would sacrifice all that?"

The mage's eyes widen and trail back to the Templar helping an old woman into a boat. Cullen, sensing that he's being watched, glances back at her and their eyes lock. She understands. Looking back to Alistair, she tries to form words. "You're...you're saying..."

The prince spits out his grass and nods. Kicking the dirt, he clears his throat. "I don't know everything that happened to you over there." His eyes quickly drift to Kinloch then back to her face. "But I think it's hardened you in a way where you don't see things for what they are. And that's not your fault, but you need to let go of some of that hate and anger, Keira."

Grabbing her chin with his thumb and finger, Alistair is sure he has her attention. "I would hate to know that life passed you by and you didn't have a clue about what was going on around you. There are people here that care about you, obviously more then you know." He drops his hand and grins.

* * *

Cullen drags his fingers along a table in a room that used to be his. For some reason, he picks it up, places it back where it belongs and dusts it off the best he can. He tries to take in a breath, but the air here is heavy still with a metallic sent and he's forced to cough. The walls are still stained with the blood of the fallen, tapestries are charred, books are torn to shreds, and doors still barely cling to their hinges. Cullen takes a seat in what's left of a chair, at his feet, he finds one of Liam's daggers. He has to cover his mouth to force back the sobs that want to escape him.

There's a knock on the door frame. "Can I come in?" The small elven mage stands at the doorway, her fingers intertwined, she's nervous.

Blinking back tears, he waves her in. "C-come in."

"I want you to know...I'm sorry, about Liam." She tries to apologize, but feels to ashamed.

"It's not your fault...he was being controlled by a demon." Cullen wipes his nose and toss's the dagger onto the small table.

"I know...it's just..." She doesn't know what to say. "I guess I feel...I don't know...guilty. Knowing a fellow mage, caused for all of this to happen."

"Mages...blood magic." He scoffs. Suddenly, angered he rises from his seat. "If there wasn't any damned mages or magic we wouldn't be here! This wouldn't be a problem would it!?" He shouts and tosses the table across the room. Breathing heavily he turns to see Thalia, frightened and tears streaming down her face.

"M-maker...I'm sorry." He moves closer to her, but she backs away. "Thalia...I-I didn't mean to..."

"I was just coming to check on you and Keira." She wipes at her eyes and continues to slowly back away. "She's up in the Harrowing chamber. Can you check on her? I think I'm going to..." She doesn't finish, she just continues to back away until she's in the hallway where she heads back to the main hall.

Disappointed in his own actions, the Templar picks up the chair and tosses that into the wall as well. Feeling that his frustrations have been sated for a bit, he heads to the Harrowing chamber. The door is open ajar, and there's light coming from within. He can hear sobbing as he slowly makes his way closer. As he enters the room, he's greeted by Kate.

"I didn't want her being up here alone." The Cousland whispers. "Lets face it. It's creepy here and I'd rather be safe then sorry." She looks over her shoulder to the saddened mage. "If you're going to stay up here, do you mind if I head back down? Place gives me bad memories."

Cullen nods yes. The rogue and her hound head down the stairs. The Templar sits down on the floor next to the mage.

"Irving said this is the first room they cleaned...because of what happened in here." She sniffles. "So many of them are gone. Sweeney...remember how he was such a sweet old man?"

Cullen tries to smile, remembering the funny old man.

"I'm told he went quickly." Keira dabs at the corner of her eyes with her sleeve. "Nial's gone too. Anders, well no one knows where he went. And the children..." Her sobs continue. "They even took most of the children...Cullen, mages did this." She stares at him, wanting some kind of explanation, but there's nothing he can ever say that will make any of this right.

Pulling the mage into a tight embrace, he allows her a moment to cry on his shoulder. Fearing that lingering here is doing no one any good, he decides to lead her back to the main hall.

"Cullen!" He hears a familiar voice as he helps Amell sit down next to Wynne.

"It's is you. Cullen!" Greagoir marches over to greet his former Knight. "It's nice to see you again lad." Both men shake hands.

"And you, Commander." Cullen removes his sword and shield and rests them against the bench. Greagoir studies his movements.

"Er..yes well...uhm, it's good to know that you've come back." The Commander beams.

"Ser?" Confused, Cullen raises a brow.

"You mean to tell me that you're not returning to the ranks?" Greagoir looks over his troops. "Our numbers are few, we could really use all the help we can get."

"Ser...I'm sorry, but I'm a Grey Warden and there's a blight to be dealt with." Cullen can't understand why his former mentor seems to be so misguided at the moment.

The Commander pulls his former Knight aside and tries to speak with him in a hushed tone. "Have you forgotten your place boy? I thought you understood why you were following that Grey Warden, Duncan, out of here. You were to keep vigil and make sure that those two mages didn't get into any trouble."

Cullen is growing impatient. "I left because I wanted to. But yes, I've kept my promise, I've guarded and watched both women."

"I don't like your tone, Templar Knight. Now, we've had an incident here. I expect you to remain true to your vows. These mages are not to leave Kinloch again." Greagoir, believing he's won this argument, begins to walk away.

"Excuse me Commander. But you seem to be under some misguided notion that you have any say over the matter." Cullen straightens his posture, unafraid of his former mentors rath. "Those two woman over there are Grey Wardens, as am I. We have a mission, and that's to end the blight. You, are obliged to help with that when the time comes. Or do you forget the treaties?"

"You dare!?" The Commander briskly turns around. "You side with...with these mages? And that one!" He points to Keira. "Do you forget how she helped a blood mage escape these walls? I should kill her where she stands!" He makes the mistake of pointing his sword in Amell's direction.

Cullen grabs hold of the blade with his bare hand. "Don't point a blade at her...or any of them."

Stunned, Greagoir stares at the blood coming from the other mans left hand. "Have you gone mad?"

Cullen only continues his glare.

"You dare steady the blade of your Commander with that arm?" He gestures to Cullen's tattoo.

"You know nothing of Andraste." The Templar Knight forces the blade aside. "I've knelt and prayed in the presence of her ashes. Why? Because of this woman." He points, to Keira who's still curled up next to Wynne. "And if you're asking if I'm picking sides, then I yes...I am, I choose the side of the Grey Wardens. I don't need to explain my actions to you. Now, I have some pyres to build. Amell and Surana need to speak with Senior Enchanter Irving. Once we're done, we're leaving. And when the Grey Wardens send their call for aid, you will answer."

Greagoir is too baffled to reply, he has no option but to bite back his remarks and go about his business.

* * *

The sun rises as the flames from the funeral fires lick the sky. Smoke and ash are sent towards the heavens, as a lay sister chants in the distance. Few surround the pyres for prayer and goodbyes. Few are left. As the mages and Templars file back into the Tower, the fires continue to burn. Cullen continues to stare at the burning body that was once Liam, as Thalia and Keira each cling to one of his sides. His arms draped over each of their shoulders, he can feel them shudder as they too watch the people they cared for slowly burn.

Kate, Fergus and Alistair feel as if they too are saying a fair well. They found it extremely touching, that Cullen requested that the sister say a prayer for Duncan and their lost family members as well. Tears in her eyes, Kate knows she'll only find real peace when they end the life of their enemy. Swallowing back a lump in her throat, her eyes land on the three figures before the fires.

"They're close...aren't they?" Kate looks to Wynne.

"He's always watched over them. Those two girls have been through many ordeals. He's done the best could with what the Chantry would allow. But, there's always loop holes for others to squirm through." Wynne sighs sadly. "Well I think I have enough of this for one day. I'll be in the boat." Just as she heads towards the dock, Alistair offers her his arm.

"Going my way?" He winks, trying to lighten the mood.

A tap on his shoulder, Cullen turns his head slightly to see Fergus. "We're going to head to the Inn. Are you three..." He doesn't want to seem rude or in a hurry, but they still have lots of ground to cover and having a few days rest at the Inn is just what everyone needs.

"I'm ready." Thalia sniffles. "I can't watch this anymore."

"Take her to boat...we'll just be a few more minutes."

Fergus wraps his cloak around the little elf and escorts her to the dock.

"We should go...we've done what we set out to do." Cullen squeezes the mages shoulder. "We should eat. Rest for a couple of days. These past few weeks have been hard on everyone."

"I know...I just wish we could stay and do more." Pushing her hair behind her ear, she leans in closer to his frame.

The Templar takes in a deep breath and slowly lets it out. "There's nothing here for us anymore. Alright." It's sad but it's true.

"I hate that you're right." Her eyes stretch along the height of the Tower. "You know if you think about it...there's more bad memories then good here." And on that note, he has to agree. Not letting go, Keira continues to clutch his side. One half of her is too exhausted to walk on her own, the other half just sad and afraid. They make their way to the boat and watch as their former home slowly disappears in the morning fog.


	15. Chapter 15 : Followed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : This chapter was written during a time a few years back when I was really, really busy. It's short, but seeing as how currently I'm busy again, I figured it would be a good chapter to put up.
> 
> Disclaimer : Dragon Age is owned by Bioware

**Chapter 15 : Followed ******

The Spoiled Princess, is larger than it looks, housing more than ten decent sized rooms, a main hall, a kitchen and a few storage rooms. Wanting some down time for her little group, Keira Amell paid the owner in full for every room he had available, which is all of them. Six of the rooms have two double sized beds, while the rest have one large bed. No longer able to stomach the sight of the Tower, Keira had decided to stay in her room and finish her notes in her journal. She jots down the information about blood magic and it's possible benefits. Her notes then go on to explain how the Templars can actually use their talents without the abuse of Lyrium.

Tired, she deposits her plume, shuts her book and stretches her neck. The sounds of laughter are heard coming from downstairs and she knows right away that it's Zeveran and Ty, drunk and having a good time. Amell smiles, happy to know that some of them are in a good mood. Her hunger finally getting the better of her, she decides to head down for food and to check in on everyone. It had been hours since they'd docked, Keira's positive that the sun is starting to set.

Descending the stairs, the laughter grows louder. As she makes her way to the main hall, she can see Ty, Zevran and Leliana sitting near the bar. They seem to be enjoying a good chat with the barkeeper, who notices Amell and nods in her direction.

"Where's everyone else?" She asks no one in particular.

Wiping a glass clean with a piece of cloth, the chunky bartender points to the door. "They built a small fire outside. Got Missy bringing them food and drinks all day and night if they want it."

"Much appreciated." The mage nods her thanks, waves to the trio at the bar and heads outside.

She spots the rest of the group around the fire the old man spoke of not far from the small wood shack. Wynne and Kate are sitting on a blanket that's spread out on the grass. The Enchantress seems to be teaching the young Cousland how to make basic healing potions. Thalia is covered in a Highever cloak, sipping on some tea, while sitting in the grass facing the flames. Sitting not far from the elven mage, Fergus continues to tell his tale while sipping on his mug filled with ale. Alistair and Cullen are sitting on a log. Alistair points to the tower, says something the mage can't hear, and then takes a drink of his beverage. Cullen in return nods and continues to stare at the fire.

"Where's Morrigan and the dwarves?" Amell rubs her hands together and then places them near the heat of the flames.

"Uhmm...Morrigan...I think she said something about setting up camp over there." Alistair points towards the tree line. "Bodahn refuses to leave his cart. So they are out back."

"She's not using a room again? Why do I even bother renting her one then?" Cold, the dark-haired mage turns her back to the fire, hoping to warm up. Bringing her attention to the two men on the large log, she notices Cullen's still injured hand. "Why haven't you gotten Wynne or Thalia to look at that yet?"

Sighing, Keira makes her way towards the men and places herself between them. Taking a seat she holds out her own hand. "Let me look at it."

"It's fine." The Templar takes another drink of ale.

"The bandaging is old, and dirty. Let me take a look at it before it gets infected." Raising her brow to show she means business, she waits. Caving into her demands, the Knight places his glass on the ground and then gives the mage his hand.

"I told him to have Wynne look at it...he ignored me." Alistair chuckles, stands and heads for the Inn. "Going to get something to eat and drink. Don't make him cry until I get back."

Cullen stares at the flames of the fire, doing everything he can it seems, to not look at the Tower or her. "I-it would heal on its own just fine...eventually."

"I'm sure it would. But if you hadn't of grab that blade to begin with..." The mage begins removing the bandaging.

"You'd be dead." He blinks once, then his lips form a thin line. His mood serious, his shoulders slump forward. "He would have done it...even with all of us standing there. I-if he thought you were a threat...he would of done it."

"I know."Amell says calmly. Removing the bandaging, Keira can see the beginning signs of infection. "Stay here, I'll get Wynne."

The mage informs the old woman of the Templar's condition and has her tend to the wound. "Keira, you really need to learn how to deal with small things like this. If you can mend broken bones, I'm sure you can mend a wound such as this just fine."

"I'm not entirely sure how to deal with something that's infected yet...Thalia's still teaching me and I'm studying it." The mage admits shyly.

Pleased with her work, Wynne smiles and heads back to her spot near Kate. "All done."

"Thank-you." Wanting to see the results, Keira takes the man's palm and studies it. "It's still really amazing to me how she can do stuff like that without leaving a massive scar."

Cullen's fingers twitch when the mage drags her index across his palm. Nodding politely in Amell's direction, he gently takes his hand back and continues to drink. Even with everyone talking and making noise, Keira finds the moment quiet and tense.

"Are...you ok?" She brings her attention to the flames as well. "You know, we can talk...about...you know. If that would help." Hands cold once more, she tucks them into the sleeves of her robe.

"I'll be fine." The Templar brings the mug to his lips to find it empty once more. Disappointed, Cullen deposits the mug onto the grass. "We're...trained to...handle stress."

Keira knows this to be true, but doubts that all training works on everyone. "I see." The mage leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "I've never seen you drink all day before."

"First time for everything I guess." He's doing the best he can to avoid her gaze.

"Am I bothering you?" Her question, simple and to the point.

Sighing, Cullen faces her. "No, my lady. I...it's just been a long day." He tries to offer a small smile, but fails and opts to chewing on his lip.

"Ok. Well, you have a good night. I'm going to bed." The mage stands, smooths out her robe, waves to everyone and heads to her room in the Inn.

"I got food and drinks." Alistair returns with a piece of cheese stuffed in his mouth, a full tray of breads and meats, as well as a pitcher of ale. "Where did Amell go?"

"To bed." Cullen takes the offered jug and fills his glass.

"Well, more for us then." Alistair winks.

* * *

"She needs a break, we all do..." Thalia studies her friends body language as she heads back to the Princess. The little elf continues to sip at her hot tea and pulls the cloak in closer to her tiny frame. With her back to the Lake, Thalia feels like she's being watched, as if something from her former home is still keeping an eye on her. Shuttering, she brings her shoulders in closer.

Fergus glances to his side and notices the small woman shivering. "Cold?"

He wraps an arm around the elf, either because he's a bit more bold from the drink, or just plain friendly. Thalia can't decide, she's never been a good judge in these type of situations, or of men. She mentally kicks herself when she thinks of Jowan and Alistair, two men that clearly have no interest in her in the way she wanted. Not bothered by the gesture, she leans into the man, content with this little moment.

"Not really. It's just..." It feels as though she sinks lower into herself even thinking about Kinloch. "Being in the shadow of the Tower...makes me uneasy."

Squeezing her shoulders with his arm, Fergus smiles down at her. "Afraid the Templars might come for you?"

The little mage nods, her eyes showing her true emotions. "Yes."

Fergus can't help but let a small laugh escape him. "You think that large man over there would let them?" He takes in a breath. "My lady, that's a silly thought." Then his facial features soften. "Sides, they'd still have to get pass me." He squeezes her shoulders one more time and continues to hold her close.

* * *

It's late when the door to Amell's chamber cracks open. "Psst. Keira...can I sleep in here?"

Blinking slowly to focus her vision, Keira sits up. "Sure...what time is it?"

The elven mage scurries into the bed and places herself closest to the wall. "Late...well early morning...sun should be coming up in a few hours."

"Oh." Keira settles back under the covers. "Why aren't you sleeping in your room?"

"The Tower...it creeps me out." Thalia can feel her eyes slowly starting to close when there's a knock at the door.

"What now?" Keira gets out of bed and heads for the door. Just as the mage is about to open it, a drunk Templar tumbles in. "Cullen?"

"Shhh...people are sleeping." He takes a long swig from his drink and Keira's forced to take the mug from him.

"I know...you should be as well. Let me help you back to your room." Grasping his elbow, she tries to escort him out.

The Templar spots Thalia curled up under the covers. "Shhh." He hushes her again. "Thalia's...sleeping."

"No, but I was about to." The little elf huffs. "Cullen...you're drunk. Go to bed."

"That's not true." He begins to walk towards the bed, trips, regains his balance and finally sits at the edge of the bed. "It's dark in here."

Keira stares at the ceiling. _Maker, why me?_ She receives no reply. "Well me and Thalia are going to sleep now...so you need to get some rest."

The Templar doesn't move. Not wanting to stand in the door way all night long, Keira puts the glass down on the table, shuts the door, climbs back into bed and tries to sleep. She can feel Thalia stir behind her.

"You're not bringing him back to his room?" The elf pokes at the dark-haired mage's shoulder. "What if he...gets sick...or falls asleep?"

"Oh well...I'm too tired. He's the one that drank so much, he can deal with it. Plus, he's over two hundred pounds, how do you expect me to move him?" Just as Amell finishes her sentence, she can feel the edge of the mattress move.

Tired and too intoxicated to walk, Cullen decides to lie down. The Knight places his head on Keira's abdomen and curls an arm under her frame. Feet hanging off the end of the bed he tries to adjust his posture so that he doesn't fall to the floor. He sense's the elf moving away so he reaches out and grabs hold of her tiny hand.

"I'm sorry...for shouting at you when we were in the Tower. Don't be angry with me...I mean, forgive me." His voice raspy, the two woman are sure he's been shouting and chatting all night long.

She can't see his face, but Thalia figures that if it wasn't so dark, she'd see him pouting like a young boy right about now. With this drunken, pouting, picture of Cullen in her mind, the elf can't help but exhale. "You're forgiven. Now please, sleep."

The elf lies back down and tries to take her hand from the Templar's grip, but he doesn't let go. Deciding that if holding her hand keeps him quiet and unmoving, she decides to ignore the matter and try to sleep. "This isn't awkward at all...is it?"

"At least he's only holding your hand." Keira giggles. Running her fingers through his hair, she can feel the heat coming from his scalp. "They must have drank enough. He's scorching hot."

"I didn't keep track of the pitchers they had. And they were still drinking by the time I went to bed." Yawning, Thalia settles her head into her pillow. "Lets try to get some rest."

* * *

He remembers going to take a piss in the bushes, saying good night. _Where did I put my drink?_ Then he went to bed, not taking off his boots. Maker, when did it get this warm in here. Trained ears pick up the sound of a creek in the floor boards in the hallway. Cullen opens his eyes but doesn't move. He can hear slow deep breaths of two other people in the room, and his arm feels like it's asleep. There's the shuffling of careful foot steps at the door. _Something's wrong._ The Templar doesn't move, but releases his grip on a small hand and reaches for the dagger in his belt.

The woman he's resting on pulls her fingers from his hair, her scent washes over him and he knows where he is. The latch at the door lifts, then the door slowly opens. There's a foot step. Without looking, Cullen whips his arm back and let's go of the dagger. The blade catches the intruder in the throat.

"Where's my sword?" He whispers.

"I don't know...your room maybe." Keira is now wide awake. The gurgling noises the assassin made on his way to floor is what caused her to jolt straight up.

The Templar can hear the sounds of a blade being pulled from its sheath. Cullen quietly makes his way next to the open door and signals the two women to remain where they are. Patiently he waits for the hushed foot steps to get closer. The dust in the morning air shifts, Cullen knows it's his time to strike. A man begins to enter the room, his sword drawn. The former Templar side kicks the attacker in the gut, knees him in the face as he falls to the ground, and takes his sword.

Cullen pulls the man up, so that he can see his face. "How many more." He says in a low tone.

"Eight."

The Templar thrusts the blade into the mans chest. Studying the armor, he realizes who these men are. "Loghain's men."

The two mages share a worried glance. "We'll hold them off here. See if you can get to the others."

Keira grabs her staff and heads to the hall way, within seconds she spots another guard. With one hand she commands a bolt of lightning to strike her enemy, the man drops to the wooden floor, dead. Amell makes her way downstairs and spots the bartender and maid crouching behind the bar. The old man spots Keira on the stairs and he points to the front door. He silently words 'Out Side'.

The two mages head to the fire pit, there they find Alistair and Fergus battling with a few of the bounty hunters. Thalia commands the ground beneath her to strike one of the men in the chest with a pillar of earth. The man is knocked out cold only to be finished off by Kate's hound. The elven mage anticipates her friends movements, and ducks when Keira pauses to swing her staff and strike a swordsman in the chest.

"Freeze!" Amell shouts. Slamming her staff's end into the ground, the mage's magics creates a fence of ice to appear and impale two of the men.

Thalia swiftly turns around when she hears Morrigan laughing at the top of her lungs. "Stay back? But t'was it not you who came looking for a fight?" The witch continues to laugh as the man before her freezes in mid-air, limbs stretched out to their maximum capacity as she drains the life from him.

Another man screams as Fergus kicks him full force in the chest, sending him into the flames of the pit. "Where is everyone?"

"There's some inside!" Keira informs. "They can handle it."

Alistair pushes his enemy back with a sword he pick up off one of the dead assassins. "Attack us? Are you mad?" With a quick swing of his arm, Alistair cleaves the man's head off of his shoulders.

"That's all of them out here." Thalia pants.

"Who's inside?" Fergus plants his borrowed blade into the ground.

"Cullen went to wake the others...Kate, Wynne, Sten...uhmm, Zev, Ty and Leliana." Keira wipes her brow, she can feel the cold taking her over and she knows that she needs to keep her emotions in check. "Lets check on them."

* * *

Bodies piled on the shore. Alistair shakes his head in disgust. "He lied about their only being Eight."

"Yeah...I didn't take his word for it." Cullen tosses the rest of the attackers gear into the pile. Kneeling in the sands of the shore, he washes his hands in the waters of the Lake. "I'm getting tired of burning bodies." He sighs.

With a few words, Keira has the fire lit. "Hopefully, this will be warning enough for anyone else trying to follow us."

"Hopefully." Alistair thumbs his jaw. "He's really got a good percent of the population convinced that the Wardens are responsible for the Kings death."

"We can't worry about that now..." The mage begins to make her way back to the Spoiled Princess. "We need to discuss how we plan to get the other groups to agree to the treaties."

"Agreed." Alistair remains deep in thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Usually, I don't use 'ok' in something set during this type of time period. But Dragon age isn't your stereotypical medieval game, now is it. I'm pretty sure I can remember a time where someone said 'ok' in the game. Please let me know if I'm wrong, because then I'll probably change it in here too ;)


	16. Chapter 16 : Where to Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here is another chapter! Please R&R
> 
> Disclaimer : Bioware still owns Dragon Age.

**Chapter 16 : Where to Now**

It was clever of Zeveran to collect anything of value from the bodies of their fallen foes. Clever, Alistair admits to himself, but still morbid and creepy. The amount in coin alone they recovered from those assassins pockets will help pay for more than just their traveling expenses. But it was still morbid and still creepy. _And why haven't they thought of doing this more often?_

Alistair rolls a gold coin along the top of his knuckles as multiple thoughts run through his mind. He can't decide what bothers him most, stealing off of the dead bodies of men that were paid to kill them, or actually using the money from the dead men that were paid to kill them. He rolls his eyes, and decides that when he thinks of it that way, then he really doesn't feel that bad about it. Taking a swig of his ale, he notices Kate making her way towards him.

"You're alright drinking out here? Even after a bunch of armed men tried to kill us last night?" She jests.

"Sure...The way I see it. We're always going to have a bounty on our head...why not try to enjoy whatever time we have, even if it's the few moments before we die." He remarks, a bit darker then he intended.

"What?" He shrugs his shoulders when he notices everyone around the fire staring at him.

Cullen shakes his head while trying to hide a small smile. In a way, he has to agree with his fellow former Templar. Now with their strategy all planed out, he can't help but sense that sinking feeling in his gut once more. Tomorrow morning, they will split into two groups once more. Once again, he'll be forced to leave the side of one of his charges.

Their plan is simple, at its core, but everyone knows nothing ever goes according to plan. Keira's group will consist of herself, Cullen, Alistair, Kate and her hound, Wynne and Zeveran. They will be focusing on traveling to Orzammar, to call upon the dwarfs to honor their treaty. Thalia's group will have Fergus, Ty, Leliana, Morrigan and Sten. Surana's group is going to attempt to find the Dalish and have them honor their signed treaty as well. Zeveran had last heard news of the Dalish traveling with in the Brecilian Forest. When Keira offered for him to go with Thalia, he'd respectfully declined.

With the sun setting and the night sky slowly making an appearance, a sense of dread slowly creeps its way over everyone. Feeling the mood shift to a dark place, Leliana begins to strum on her lute. Hoping to lift everyone's spirits, the red-headed rogue sings a gentle tune. The combination of Leliana's voice floating in the wind, and the crackling of the fire, forces Keira to smile warmly, content with her surroundings for once. Rolling her head from side to side to ease the tension in her neck, Amell notices something a little odd. Cullen is making his way toward Morrigan, with a package under his arm. She lifts her brow, confused as to what he would need to talk with her for. The mage studies the two figures as they quietly exchange words. The Templar hands the Witch of the wilds the package, exchanges a few more words and then heads back towards the fire.

"Can I...?" Cullen points to the empty spot next to Amell.

The mage shakes her head, done with trying to make sense of anything. "Oh...sure."

The Templar rests his elbows on his knees, staring into the flames of the small fire, he grins.

"What?" Keira can't help but copy his smile.

Glancing back at her, Cullen can't help but allow his smile to grow. "You're wondering what I gave Morrigan."

"What? I don't know what you're..." The mage tries to pretend that she didn't even notice what he'd been doing.

Cullen continues to stare at the dark-haired mage beside him.

"Alright." She rolls her eyes. "I'm curious about what a Templar could have of interest to a Witch. Call me curious." She snorts.

"I-I found something of her mothers in the Tower. In Irving's room. I-I didn't mean to snoop, it...it was just there. You know...in the open." His attention now at his feet, suddenly ashamed of his past actions.

"Oh? Do you know what it was?" Keira pulls her shall in close around her, as if in suspense.

"She said it's her mother's Grimoire. And she seemed over joyed to have it."

"Wow. Well that was really thoughtful of you." The mage tries to comfort the Templar. "I know you weren't going through his things. That place was a mess. If you ask me, you were meant to find it."

"I-I guess." Cullen attempts a lop sided smile.

"And who knows. Maybe a thoughtful gesture like that is just the thing she needs to come around." The little mage wraps her hands within her long bell sleeves and studies the darkened image of Morrigan in the distance. "She just always seems so...sad."

Keira brings her attention back to her companions and notices Ty standing just a few feet from Cullen. As of this morning, the young elf had kept to himself and had been unusually quiet. With his hands behind his back, he takes a seat next to the dark-haired mage.

"You've been awfully quiet this evening." Amell comments while winking in his direction. "Thinking about a certain Red-head too much?" The mage jabs the rogue in the ribs lightly with her elbow.

"What?" Ty's eyes quickly dart to Lelianna, then back to his commanding officer. "Oh...uhm no." He smirks, blushing.

Understanding what the elf is thinking, Cullen nods when Ty glances his way.

"I have something for you." Ty places a small cloth bag on Amell's lap. "We purchased it off a traveling merchant, when you were recovering in the wagon on our way back to Redcliffe."

"A gift? For me? Why?" The mage stares at the object on her lap. Never had she received a gift from people she hardly new.

"Do we need a reason? Besides, it's something you can use." He offers a charming grin. "Go on...open it."

Allowing her cloak to fall, her shaky hands remove the cloth from around the item. The shiny silver gleams in the light of the blazing fire. Entranced by the beauty, Keira's finger trace the delicate quartz crystals and skim along the lines of the wonderful craftsmanship of the Dalish headband.

"It's beautiful." She continues to carefully drag her fingers over every detail.

"Do you know what it does?" Ty asks while he takes the Circlet from his mage friend and gently places it, allowing it to rest on her crown and forehead.

Nodding, Keira takes Ty's hands in her own. "I do, yes. Thank-you so much. I'm very grateful."

"Hey don't get all soft on me now. I'm just hoping it'll help you out. I want to make sure you'll have enough energy to kick some Archedemon arse with us later on." The elf places her hands back onto her lap. "And you're very welcome. Now...promise you'll take care of yourself."

"I promise." She exhales lightly.

* * *

Every time they separate, it's getting harder. With the cruel reality of their situation setting in more and more each day, Keira understands that any one of their good-byes, could be their last. Worst of all, she thinks that Thalia is finally fully aware of this as well. With a stiff upper lip, the two mages said their good-byes. Constantly, they checked back over their shoulder, looking on as the others figure slowly faded in the distance.

"How long do you think it will take to get to Orzammar?" Keira asks no one in particular.

"If the weather allows it, probably not more than two days. Maybe less if we're lucky." Bodahn informs while sitting comfortably in his wagon. "If I might make a suggestion...There's a small clearing near some fresh water a few hours up ahead. It's a good spot to set up for the night."

"Sounds good to me." The mage continues to push forward, using her staff to help her along the way. "So marching up hill for the next two days then..."

"It'll be a good work out." Alistair scoffs.

Within four hours, the group comes across the area Bodahn had spoken of. The first thing that Keira notices is how fresh the air is here. Taking in a deep breath, she places her pack on the ground and smiles. "Why does it smell like that here?"

Alistair and Zeveran share a puzzled look, then begin setting up camp. Confused about why no one answers her, the mage shrugs her shoulders and starts working on her own tent.

"You're... use to inclosed areas. The air here is different because of the wind that comes from the mountains. It sweeps down the hills over the snow, through the trees, over the lakes and ends here." Cullen helps her secure the ropes for her tent.

"Oh. Well why didn't it smell like that when we were looking for Andrastes ashes?" The mage tosses her things quickly into her tent.

"W-well. It was really cold where we were. The air there... was too cold to be able to tell the difference. That kind of weather forces you to cover your body and face most of the time. So it's doubtful you would have noticed much of a change."

The mage listens attentively, wanting to learn all that she can, when she can. "I see. Well that makes sense." She makes a mental note to write this new information down later in her journal.

With the stars now high in the sky, Keira draws from memory what the scene before her had looked like during the day. Then underneath it, she describes the new things she'd been taught. On the next page, she draws a few new plants she'd discovered in hopes that maybe someone could tell her what they are and their uses. Tired, she puts her book back into her bag and watches as Kate and Zeveran duel.

Just as the younger Cousland is about to leap forward, the elf ducks and roles as his opponent jumps over him. Once Kate lands, Zeveran jumps to his feet, spins and kicks her in the lower back. Quickly, Kate rolls to her back, only to find Zeveran staring down at her, with his dagger at her throat.

"You are quick, my friend. But I however, think faster." Winking, he offers her his hand and helps the young woman up. "Alistair, you're next." The elf rolls his shoulders.

"What? I don't need to train with a rogue..." The prince tries to avoid having anything to do with the annoying elf.

"It does not matter what weapon you wield or how you are trained to fight. All that matters is that you know how to win." Zev twirls his daggers in his hands. "I'm offering you a chance to learn new tactics. A way to conquer a new foe, should you come up against a skilled assassin."

"I've fought a few in my time...thanks." Alistair continues to ignore the elf.

"Alright...well then, think of it as a chance to bash my face in." The antivain knows that got his attention.

"Fine." Alistair grabs his sword and shield. "Where do you want it to start hurting first?" The prince grins.

Shaking her head, tired of the testosterone, Keira decides to stretch her limbs. Her eyes survey the area, everyone seems to be resting, eating or watching the two men beat on each other. Wanting a change in scenery, she turns around to head for the little lake just off to the right of the camp. There she finds Cullen sitting on a large log, tossing pebbles into the water.

"What are you doing over here by yourself?" Keira asks while covering herself with her shall, finding it cold away from the warmth of the fire.

A bit startled, he looks up at her quickly. "Me? Oh...uhm...just trying to get away from all the noise."

"Oh? Migraines?" The mage takes a seat beside him.

"Oh..uhm no. Just tired of noise in general I guess." Cullen tosses a few more stones into the lake.

"I can leave if..." Keira points with her thumb in the direction of the camp.

"What? No! I mean...it's alright. I'm just...relaxing...you're, you know...not intruding or anything like that." He covers his mouth with his fist and clears his throat.

"Alright." Keira tries not to giggle, finding his demeanor to this day still a bit comical.

Staring up at the night sky, she allows her thoughts to drift to Thalia briefly, just hoping that she too is looking up at the same stars. For a brief second, from the corner of her eye, she notices Cullen's handsome form. She inwardly sighs.

"Cullen." She bites at her lower lip and starts pulling loose threads from the seam of her sleeve.

"Yes?" He finds it odd that she says his name, instead of just asking it is whatever it is she has on her mind.

Exhaling deeply, she pushes her hair back. "You...you know I care for you...right?" She turns to face him, but finds that he's stopped throwing rocks and is now focused on his feet. "Cullen?"

"I...I..." The Templar clears his throat. "Thank-you, my lady. That's very kind of you to say."

Confused, the mage drags a hand through her hair. "Come on...don't give me _'that's kind of you to say'_ crap. That's just a practiced polite thing they teach you to say when you don't know you should say." One of her hands begins to grip tightly at her shall.

"What would you have me say?" Cullen tries for sarcasm, and tosses another stone into the water.

"The truth." Amell exhales and balls up one of her fists.

Cullen chuckles. "The truth, my lady?" He sees her nod. "The truth is...you're a mage and I am a Templar."

The mage shrugs her shoulders, annoyed. "So? It's not like you're really one of them anymore."

The Templar Knight shakes his head, a bit insulted.

"Well it's true. And it's not like you ever really were. You're different then them. And we are Wardens now. Those rules don't apply to us any longer." Amell cups his face with her hands. "Please, look at me. It's not like you to turn from me."

He can't help but obey her hands, and brings his attention to her eyes. Her bright orbs, even in this darkness. "I-I can't, this inappropriate. I'm supposed to do the will of the Maker...and..."

"Cullen. Think back on all the things they've taught you. Think back on how they've lied to you."

The Templar slowly removes her hands from his face. "It doesn't matter...And I don't expect you to understand." He stares at the ground, unable to look at her any longer, not wanting to see the hurt in her eyes.

"I know you're someone who keeps their word. But how do you justify continuing to follow their teachings when you know it's wrong?" Amell can see that the man before her is having an inner struggle.

"I can't..." He admits, his eyes shut tight.

Gently the mage places a hand against his cheek. "Look at me." She whispers, and the Templar listens. "No one owns you...it took me years, even as a mage to realize that. This..." She drags her index along his chest and stops above his heart. "Is yours and no one else." Smiling profoundly, she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

Assuming that's as far as this conversation is going to go, Keira nods and stands to leave. His inner battle still waging, Cullen decides he can't let her leave without confessing to her as well.

"You're wrong." Quickly, he grasps her wrist before she can walk away and pulls her back to her seat. Cullen flattens her palm over the center of his chest. "This has and will always be _yours._ "

His amber eyes sincere, he heaves out a ragged breath. "Please, know that at the very least. It may be all I can offer, I can guarantee nothing else."

"And I will wait." Seeing no hesitation in him, Keira leans forward and presses a kiss against his lips.

His eyes close, but his core tells him to pull away. Opting instead to berate himself later, he leans into the little mage and pushes his tongue into her mouth. He pulls Amell into his lap and wraps his arms around her waist. Smiling against his lips, Keira returns his embrace.

"I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that." Amell rests her head against his shoulder and chews at her lip. She smiles when she can feel his strong pulse strumming against her cheek.

"It's...it's alright." He breathes out heavily.

"So...what do we do now?" She asks while playing with the hem of his neck line.

"I-I...don't know. I really don't. I'm sorry. I just...I can't." Frustrated with himself, he looks to the calm clear waters.

"Shh...for now, don't worry about it." She wraps her arms around his frame as Cullen covers her shoulders with her shall.

Resting by the camp fire, Alistair spots the couple in the shadows by the lake. Feeling his heart sink a bit, he decides to go for a walk, he bumps into Kate as he quickly makes his way past her.

"Sorry." He apologizes and continues walking.

Trying to figure out what his issue is, Kate looks to where he was seated, then she too notices Keira and Cullen by the shore line. "Hey, Alistair...wait up."


	17. Chapter 17 : Never Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N : This next chapter is going to contain Highly Mature scenes, so if that type of thing bothers you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I really wanted for all of you to understand my version of Surana. So here we go. It's a long chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer : Bioware you own this and you know it.

**Chapter 17 : Never Enough**

There's never enough of anything, especially time. There's not enough months in a year, days in a month or hours in a day. Between finding a cure for those turned into werewolves, a rhyming tree's lost acorn and decoding the ramblings of a madman, Surana decides that there is no way in Thedas that she has the time to deal with some Demon who feeds on people while they sleep.

"Enough!" With one last powerful burst of energy, Thalia knocks the Hunger demon over with her earth spears. "You die now creature!"

The lives of her followers in great peril, the tiny elf musters up all the mana and the energy she has left. Quickly she dodges to the left as the creature speeds towards her. The demon's claws cut through the skin of her right upper arm as she dashes past it. Swiftly turning on her heel, Thalia sends a large chunk of earth barreling after her enemy. The stone knocks the creature to the ground, stunning it momentarily.

Not wasting any time, Surana decides that now is the perfect time to test the fire spells she's been working on. She twirls her staff in the palm of her hand, then slams the end of it into the earth. A ring of fire appears around the demon, quickly setting it's flesh ablaze.

Energy now spent, Thalia drops to her knees. She grips her staff that's still planted firmly into the ground, and stares at her sleeping friends. Finally, they begin waking from their slumber and slowly climb to their feet. Each of them stare at their surroundings in utter disgust. Bodies of long dead previous victims lie scattered in heaps along the clearing. The once comfortable looking tents, now nothing more than tattered cloth blowing in the wind.

The elf mage offers each of them a soft weak smile as their sights land on her tired form. "Shall we continue on?"

* * *

It's been a long week. _A week?_ The Brecilian forest is dense and dark, dangers hide everywhere. Fergus rubs the back of his neck, completely exhausted. _Well, at least the werewolf attacks have died down._ It's been almost two days since their last ambush. That alone has to count for something he admits. Settling down for the evening, Fergus removes his armor and places it aside with the intention to clean and care for it later. The tired soldier takes a seat near the fire and accepts a bowl of stew that Morrigan offers him.

"Thank-you." He acknowledges her with a nod. As soon as the bowl hits his finger tips, the growling in his stomach becomes louder.

Lifting a brow, the Witch shakes her head. "Do remember that it's quite hot. I do not wish to mend any more wounds this evening."

Fergus begins to slowly devour his meal. While staring over the edge of his bowl, his eyes lock on the flames dancing before him. Deep in thought, he doesn't even notice when Morrigan makes her way behind him.

Bending slightly at the hips, the Witch places a hand on his shoulder. "Your thoughts are louder than you realize. Although, I would not chastise you for such thoughts...I do not think you are breaking any laws." Morrigan's fingers squeeze his shoulder tighter. "But think on this wisely. Would an elf mage, recently fresh to the ranks of the Grey Wardens be so warmly welcomed as your bride? Not only is she seen as a filth in the eyes of your Maker, but she'll be expected to produce you an heir. Do you think that child will be so openly accepted?"

"I do not know what you speak of." The eldest Cousland replies coldly. He places his dishes on the ground by his feet and folds his fingers together.

"I only wish to make sure that you've considered _all_ outcomes. T'is not you that I am concerned for." Morrigan's golden eyes drift to the elven mage who's laughing with Leliana and Ty.

"Your concern is both noted and appreciated." His eyes also now drift to Thalia's form across the fire pit. "I've...much to think on."

"T'is all I ask." With that, the Witch heads towards her tent.

Sighing, Fergus slumps his shoulders and concentrates on the bright embers glowing in the pit. Should he ever ask for her hand, Thalia being accepted was never a concern for him. Regardless of what anyone thought, he would marry her, should she accept such an offer. It would take a man of strong will and character to be able to pull something like that off. But then, he never once thought that maybe she wouldn't be comfortable with the idea of everyone not approving of their union. Hell, he doesn't even know if she regards him in a romantic manner.

And then there's _Oriana_. Almost a year ago, she and their son had been murdered. He can feel a lump form in his throat. _What would she think of me? Not even a year has passed and already you are looking to wed another? Is this love or lust? Depression, desperation or comfort?_ Oren, his brave little Oren. _What would he think of his father now?_ Of course his love for Oriana and their son will never die, they however, are no longer among the living. And he has to think of the future of his people.

Fergus shakes his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. He knows that as the eldest Cousland, that he'll be expected to remarry once they reclaim Highever. With a deep exhale he looks to the heavens silently begging for a sign, and if possible some forgiveness. His jaw trembling with the pain of his thoughts and memories, he picks up his empty dishes and heads back to clean his armor.

* * *

Looking over her companions tents, the little elf sighs. For some reason, she feels that they would be better off with Fergus leading the way. But seeing as she is more qualified as a Grey Warden then Ty, this choice was indeed the wisest. Crossing her arms over her knees, she allows her head to rest against her forearms. Only a Warden can request the aid of the Dalish. Although, they do carry the treaty, it's a Grey Warden that must present it. So that's what she's done. Played the role of leader.

It seems, that even though they have these treaties, that they are still forced to jump through hoops like trained dogs. _We'll help you but help us with this first...don't forget to give my sister's, husband's, uncle who's been twice removed, this letter..._ The demands go on and on. And for some reason, she finds herself not bothered by all the errands and constant badgering. In the end, isn't helping people what they are trying to do?

"Andraste...would it be too much for you to give us a break?" She huffs against the material of her sleeves.

"Stressed?" Two strong hands are massaging the tense muscles of her neck and shoulders. She knows the owner of this voice, but looks over her shoulder to see who it is anyways.

"Fergus? I...yes. A little." Ducking her head back down on her arms, she lets out a heavy breath. "I just want to find this damned Witherfang already."

"I see." He sits down behind the mage, his thighs hug closely against her own. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asks while his thumbs and palms continue to ease her aching body.

Shrugging her shoulders, the elf allows Fergus to continue. "Nope."

Leaning in against her frame, he rests his chin on her shoulder. His facial hair scratches at the skin of her neck. "Can I ask you something? It's...well...personal."

"Of course." Thalia nuzzles her forearms, attempting to get more comfortable. "What's on your mind?"

Fergus snakes his hands around her waist to her abdomen. His arms flex gently, as he exhales slowly. "We haven't known each other very long...but we've gone through a great deal together. We've come to know and understand one another fairly well..."

Not knowing what to do when the large man behind her suddenly begins to hug her form, Thalia decides to do nothing and just listen. "True..."

"And I know...that sometimes when people are thrown together in life or death situations...they tend to become more fond of one another..."

Curious, Surana twists so that she can see his face. He sets his jaw and decides to tell her.

"It might be because of everything that we've been through together...but I find that I've come to care for you. A lot." He clears his throat and allows his eyes to drift to his one arm still around her waist. "And I was wondering if maybe you do or if you think you could ever...care for me."

It's quiet. There's too long of a pause. He can see her chewing on her bottom lip. Either she's hesitating, frightened or wants to let him down easy. He decides to end the awkward moment for her.

"You know what...forget I said anything. Good night my lady." He offers a polite smile, untangles his arms from her and is just about to rise, when Thalia finally answers him.

"Fergus. Sit." Her eyes search his face. "I'm just...a bit surprised...that's all."

Making himself comfortable once more, he places his hands on his thighs and awaits her answer. Fergus licks his lips and tries to explain himself. "I understand that you're probably wondering about what kind of future we'd have together. It won't be easy, but I'll make it work. And I meant what I said before, back in Denerim."

A bit unsure, the white-haired mage ponders this idea for a moment.

Taking her chin with his finger, he smiles warmly. "I can guarantee you this, I'll never turn my back on you or be unfaithful, and no matter where you are...I'll come for you. I promise. I'm a good man, Thalia, and I'll do whatever I can to make you happy."

"Are you ready for something like this...so soon?" She tries not to cause his heart any pain, but she needs to be certain, since she's not quite sure herself.

"I think it will take more time for those wounds to heal...but I'm certain... of how I feel for you...I hope that's a fair enough answer." He shuts his eyes and hangs his head low, knowing this might not be what she wanted to hear. At least it's the truth.

Her soft hand rests gently against his face and he leans into her touch, relishing her sent. "There's nothing stating how fast or slow we must progress is there?"

"No." He whispers as her thumb brushes his bottom lip. His body shakes, the touch of a woman, almost something foreign to him now. "At least not until we are back at Highever."

"I care for you." The mage kisses his lips softly and then pulls back.

She's struck with the realization that for once someone has noticed _her_. This giant of a man sits here, with his arms securely wrapped around her torso. With all the other possibilities that are easily available to him, his eyes focus and remain on _her_. He could easily have his pick of noble women later on, but instead he chooses an elven mage. Suddenly, she finds herself incredibly turned on by this thought. This in itself is an odd thing for her, seeing as she's never really _slept_ with anyone. Sure she's experimented, but nothing beyond the realm of that. Keira had gone through a lot of trouble to protect the one thing Thalia truly owned, including the torture that she endured at Kinloch. Surana is pleased, knowing that this one thing that belongs to her, is hers to give to whom she chooses.

"If I were to ask..." She places a feathery light kiss on his jaw. "Would you deny me a night in your tent?" Now she's trailing those same kiss along his neck. For some reason unknown to herself, she feels compelled to experience everything quickly. With the constant feeling of doom looming over them at every minute of the day, wouldn't the company of a loved one be something to soothe the overwhelming feeling of dread?

Self control slowly fading, Fergus arms squeeze the elf a little tighter. "It would be a difficult thing for me to do...but I think it would be best..." His heart pounds in his chest as her hand snakes up the length of his thigh. "If...if we took this slow."

"And why is that?" She squeezes the muscle of his upper thigh a bit harder. Hearing his breathing become more labored, Thalia captures the man's mouth with her own. "What if we were to die tomorrow?" An honest question that sends panic swimming through her soul. She really doesn't want to die without ever being able to truly express and feel what it is to be loved.

This is wonderful, she admits, this feeling of being desired and needed. But she wants more. This isn't enough. She wants to know what it feels like to have someone trembling and sweating with want for her.

"Don't talk like that my lady. We'll all survive, as long as we don't let thoughts like that cloud our minds. " He tries to reassure her, but he knows he's failing, and so is his will power. "We should get some rest. I'll tell Sten that he's next on watch."

* * *

_  
"This is outrageous. What would your parents want for you and your sister?" An unknown voice whispers._

_"You're selfish." Another voice fades into the shadows. "And a poor excuse for a soldier."_

_"How dare you walk in these halls!" The voices shout._

_Fergus attempts to find his way through the castle that was once his home. But this place, it doesn't seem familiar. He rounds a corner and still he feels like as if he's lost his way._

_"Coward!" A hiss of a whisper._

_He turns the knob of a door, but it's locked, so he tries another and then another. Soon he feels as if he's been turned around once more._

_"Deserter!" A raspy voice booms._

_Dizzy, he drops to his knees trying to catch his breath. Firmly, he shuts his eye lids hoping to block out the sinister voices that remain hidden in the shadows. He pulls at the hair on his head and begins to sway._

"Wake up. Fergus." A distant friendly whisper.

Sweat trails down his brow and chest. "What is it?" Fergus inhales deeply, waking from a deep sleep.

Thalia closes the tent flap behind her. "You were...thrashing in your sleep."

"Oh...did I wake anyone?" He glances around the tent, looking for his belongings and begins to sit up.

The mage shakes her head. "No...I wasn't sleeping yet...but I couldn't bare letting you sleep like that. Are you alright?"

The large man stretches out his arms. "I'm fine. Feels like I've slept for hours actually."

Thalia raises a brow. "You've only been asleep for maybe half a candle mark."

"What? It certainly felt longer than that." He lays his head back down on his roll and places his arm over his eyes. "It's probably because I haven't really been sleeping much lately. Any rest is great rest then." He chuckles at this thought and stifles a yawn. "Seems I'm still tired."

The mage slowly shifts herself closer. With no sign of rejection from him, she kisses his lips. A bit surprised, he returns the gesture. Their kiss deepening, she climbs over him to straddle his large frame. She can't believe how forward she's being with him. One moment their just great friends who enjoy each others company, the next moment, this. Thalia finds herself a little thankful that Keira is nowhere near. Surana is positive that her best friend would probably not approve of this behavior. She can practically hear Amell tapping her foot impatiently.

Wanting more, Thalia moves her waist and grinds her hips. A growl forms deep in Fergus's chest, which she decides she enjoys. He tries to lift his head, but she forces him to lie back down. "Relax." She coos to him softly.

Being the stronger person, he pushes her back, gently. "We shouldn't do this...not yet and not here." His eyes scan the rugged tent.

"We aren't doing anything." She smiles mischievously. "Lie down." Again, her hips press against his and he exhales deeply. "Is it wrong for me to make you happy as well?"

No response, but his grasp on her loosens. Her mouth is upon his with in seconds, devouring his natural taste and enjoying every minute of it. Sensing that he's a bit uneasy, the mage places kisses along his jaw and neck. Shortly after, she climbs under the blankets with him and her hand slowly heads south. Although she's never slept with a man, she's quite experienced with her hands. Tonight, however, she plans on learning something new. Something she's heard the women and men back at the Tower speak of. Something she's heard Leliana and Zev speak of on countless occasions.

As their kiss grows more aggressive, her fingers trail over tough skin, the rough hair she finds along his body is pleasing to the touch. Reaching the edge of his under clothes she pauses a moment, allowing him a second to refuse her intentions. Not sensing any form of tension, she slides her palm under his clothing.

Fergus lets out a hiss of excitement, then pulls her head closer so that he can kiss her harder. His chest heaves up and down as she continues her work. To his bitter disappointment, she pulls away from him. "Are you...alright?" He asks in between ragged breathes, worried.

The elven mage doesn't answer. Quickly, she makes her way down his body and surrounds his male anatomy with her mouth. His hips buck forward as he grabs two fists full of her hair. Smiling as she now learns this new task, she begins rotating her tongue and moving her head in the exact way she's heard about so many times. The soldier in her small grasp moans and guides her motions with his hands. Her movements become faster as his body becomes warmer.

From his labored sounds, to his unanticipated movements, she enjoys every bit of it. His breaths are quick, the skin of his thighs are warm and slick with sweat.

"I...can't hold back...you should stop." He warns her in a husky low voice. But the little mage continues, and the grip on her hair becomes painful. "Thalia...you should..."

 _Oh Maker, is he panting?_ Again, she inwardly smiles. Now forcefully, he pushes on her skull , and she still finds this enjoyable. With one last powerful thrust of his hips, he pushes on the back of her head so that she surrounds him to the very brim. He's warm when he pours down her throat and his body shakes and hums with satisfaction.

"You should sleep easy now." She purrs against his chest.

"Stay here. With me." His eyes plead with her to remain in his embrace for the night.

Not saying a word, she curls up on her side beside him. Fergus kisses the top of her head lovingly, as Thalia makes herself comfortable. As sleep takes them, she remains wrapped in his arms.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Ty chews on a piece of grass as he sits perched on the branch of a large oak. "He's a shem..."

Thalia sighs. "I know...and yes, I'm sure. Now do you see anything or not?"

"Nothing." Ty jumps down from the tree and lands gracefully on his feet. "Will the Wardens allow it? I mean when all of this is over with...aren't we technically dedicated to them now?"

The elven mage studies the horizon. "I'm not exactly sure. With Duncan gone...and Alistair kind of new as well...I think there's still a lot for us to learn."

"So maybe...I don't know...don't you think it would be best to slow it down for now?" Ty spits out his piece of grass and begins walking by his friend's side.

"No." Surana disagrees forcefully. "I'm tired of putting my life and things I want on hold!"

"Alright, alright." The elven rogue raises his hands in surrender. "I get it...I'm just trying to be Mr. Logical here. And I don't have anything against the guy personally...but..."

"What? He can't be trusted because he's a shem?" Thalia tires of this conversation and begins her pace back towards the camp at a greater speed. "I really don't get what you're so..."

Ty stops dead in his tracks. "A shem and his band of thugs...rapped and murdered my wife."

His eyes haze over as he looks down at his wedding band still snug around his finger. "He was a nobleman as well." Ty snickers.

"After our wedding ceremony had come to an end...they beat most of us men to a bloody pulp, and took the women. When I came to...my father informed me on how my wife, cousin and some friends had been captured."

He runs his finger delicately over the shiny gold around his finger. "I broke into the Manner and killed a bunch of the guards. When I found her...she was dying on the floor, in a puddle of her own blood." Ty swallows a lump in his throat. "I kissed her and told her that I would kill all the bastards involved."

For some odd reason, Thalia notices a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth. "And you know what the worse part was?" His glazed eyes meet her own. "She gave me this..." He pulls a chain out from under his tunic, Thalia can see a smaller gold ring hanging from it.

"She told me that she loved me. That I should rescue who ever is still alive and leave. Go faraway. She whimpered to me, as the blood caught in her throat slowly drowned her. Live, be free. For me. Those were her dying words to me." The elven rogue clears his throat and tucks the necklace back under his clothing. "I killed the Nobleman and his gang...and then I met Duncan. The rest is history."

Thalia can feel her eyes moistening. "Ty...I'm...so sorry..."

"So am I..." Ty takes a few steps towards the little mage. "Now, I'm not saying that Fergus is a bad guy. I just want you to be aware that other people around him later on, might not be so...accepting. I know you've lived most of your life in the Tower and that you might not be totally aware of just how much Elves are treated like dirt. If you decide to go ahead with this...the path of your life will not be an easy one. Are you willing to live that way?"

Surana takes a quick glance over her shoulder in the direction of the camp. She can hear Fergus, his laughter load and roaring. A bright smile spreads across her face and she looks back at her friend. "Without a doubt."

* * *

There's a wolf howling as the ancient trees of the ruins begin to move with signs of life. The werewolves charge towards the possessed oaks, snarling and growling, they claw at the bark. Zathrian stands at the rear, sending energy bolts and waves of ice towards his canine attackers, who continue their onslaught. Witherfang tries to take the lead but is knocked to the ground by a large branched hand.

"Fergus and Sten, flank the trees. Leliana and Ty take positions there and there." Surana points to two higher points, one is a broken statue, the other is a mound of rubble. "Morrigan, I'm thinking you'd look great as a bear."

Laughing, Morrigan transforms herself into a large Grizzly and barrels towards the fray. Thalia eyes the elder mage. A man she was just beginning to trust. An elf mage like herself. A man who helped her understand, exactly where she'd come from. Rage coursing through her veins, she squeezes her staff and continues to glare. She patiently waits for her opening. Her mark available, she twirls on her heel to gain momentum and sends an arcane bolt hurtling towards the Dalish Keeper. The surge of energy is far too great for the elder mage to handle, he collapses unconscious.

The oak trees are quickly dismembered and Witherfang transforms into the Lady of the Forest once more. With a sad expression, she stands next to Zathrian. The elven man looks up at the spirit, shaking his hands at her, he slowly backs away.

"No...no more. I...I cannot defeat you." Zathrian's chest heaves with heavy breaths.

Drooling, the werewolves surround the fallen Keeper. "Kill him now." Swiftrunner slowly makes his way for the mage.

The Lady places herself between her friend and the elven mage. "No, we will not kill him." She turns her back on the animal and stares down at Zathrian. "If there's no mercy in our hearts...how can we expect there to be any room for mercy in his?"

With help from Leliana, Zathrian grips his staff and stands. Gripping his side, he shakes his head. "I'm too old, Spirit...I cannot do what you ask. But perhaps...I have lived too long. This ancient anger in me has consumed my soul." Shifting his weight, the elder mage regards the Lady. "And what of you Spirit? You are bound to the curse just as I am. Do you not fear your end?"

The Lady pets her friends main fondly. "Because of you my Maker...I've known pain and love, hope and fear and all the joy that is life." Smiling sadly, she ceases her movements. "Yet of all things, I desire nothing more than an end. I beg you Zathrian, put an end to me."

Feeling grief now for all the suffering he's caused, the Keeper kneels, spent of time and the will to live any longer. "I...I think it is time." The corner of his mouth forms a thin smirk. "Let us finally put an end to it all."

* * *

As the sun sets, Fergus studies the beauty of the mountains and trees. Many things that have happened these past two weeks replay over and over in his mind. The most profound, seeing the look on Thalia's face as those cured of the curse had head out into the world. The wind picks up and he can't help but close his eye lids, allowing the sensation to wash over him. Then, taking a deep breath, his face becomes stern. He raises his sword in a defensive position, and then brings it swiftly through the air. His heels slide with every practiced motion. Taking on a new position, he swings his blade high over his head, does a round about and cleaves the air in front of him.

"A bit of practice?" The elven mage watches her lover from a distance. Leaning against a tree, she studies his calculated movements.

Showing a bit of teeth when he smiles, Fergus swings his long sword once more and then ends his session. "One can never be too ready." He winks.

"Agreed." Surana pulls an apple from her pack and tosses it his way.

"Thank you." The soldier rests his weapon against a tree and sits in the grass. Taking a bite of his fruit, he pats the ground beside him. "Come, sit with me."

She does as requested and is pleased when he drapes an arm over her shoulder. "I'm so pleased that the Dalish have a new Keeper. She seems wise."

"Ah...that she does. I believe she had a good teacher." He nudges the little elf closer. "Zathrian made some mistakes, but he was a good man in his own way."

"I suppose he was." Thalia, happy with this thought leans against the solid frame of Fergus's body. "What do you think will become of Swiftrunner and the rest?"

Fergus shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not sure...but what I am sure of is that anything has to be better than what they've already had to endure."

Content with this thought, Thalia is amazed at how he seems to always know what to say. A tense situation, or even a saddened one, is always lightened by his words. For someone so young in years, his words always seem to carry so much wisdom. Maybe this is why she's so drawn to him. His courage, strength, quick thinking and kindness are just some of his characteristics she finds admirable.

She hears him take another bite into the crisp apple and looks upon him lovingly as he studies the view. And deep in her heart, she can only hope that Keira will approve of this relationship, because that is the only opinion she truly cares about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The last sentence. Thalia does care about what Fergus thinks, and about how she herself feels about this new relationship. However, it's just a way of showing how she doesn't give a rats ass if the rest of the world doesn't like it. The only other person in the world that means anything to her is Keira. So obviously, her opinion would matter.


	18. Chapter 18 : Deep Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wrote this chapter when DA3 was announced. No previews, no teasers, just announced. Shows you how long I've been writing this fic. 
> 
> Disclaimer : Dragon age and all of it's stuff is not mine...yadda yadda yadda!

**Chapter 18 : Deep Dark**

The air is hot and humid, dust clings to any exposed sweaty skin with every movement. The blood of many dark spawn stain the dark-haired mage's robes. There's an eery orange glow coming from cracks in the ground and walls.

_The Deep Roads._

Who knew they'd be this dark and this vast. Without the help of their new companion, Oghren, they'd surely be lost by now. The small group heads down a short corridor that leads to what looks like an abandoned camp.

"We should be good here." The dwarf grunts. "But we'd best keep watch and make our visit a short one."

"Agreed." Keira motions with her chin for everyone to make their way towards the small camp ground. "We'll rest here and then continue on."

Taking a seat on a large rock, Amell pulls a golden crown from her pack. _Such a small thing to have come all this way for._ She thumbs the delicate carvings that Caridin had delicately etched into the edges. _Such a simple thing to have risked so much for._

The mage eyes her comrades. Alistair and Kate are building a tiny make shift fire, while Zevran and Wynne take inventory of all their supplies. Cullen and Oghren remain at the ready, watching for any sign of foreign movement.

_Such a tiny object to have made them come all this way, forcing them to become witness to so many horrible things._ Keira presses her palm against her brow when sudden flashes of recent memories begin to plague her thoughts. The thousands upon thousands of darkspawn marching to the commands of the Archedemon, as she and her companions had watched from the safety of the shadows. Hespith and her morbid poem, words carried by whispers in the dark, as Keira and her friends had struggled to stay alive in the maze of tunnels. Ruck, the son that will never again be reunited with his Mother. Then there was the Brood Mother. Out of everything they had seen, this creature had been the most disturbing. Not only was this mother of darkspawn a vicious and vile opponent, but with her destruction came knowledge. The truth of what happens to the victims of the darkspawn, the ones that lay battered and broken, left behind and forgotten in the field of battle.

The mage fights the urge to retch. _Such a small thing to mean so much to so many._ Amell finds herself hating this tiny symbol of Royalty. It had cost her precious time she could not afford. It had almost cost her the lives of her companions. A chilling feeling of dread creeps along her insides and down her spine. Her eyes observe Alistair, her thumbs continue to stroke the crown within her grasp. She begins to realize, that some of their sacrifices will be greater than most. The mage's eyes fall back to the jewel resting in her hands.

"You look at that thing any longer Warden and I'm sure it'll melt." Oghren stands before his new friend. "I've heard tales about you mages...and I've seen you fight. I'm sure you could do it." He scoffs.

"I'm sorry about Branka." That didn't come out the way she'd hope. She cringes at the way her voice sounded.

"Yeah...well she knew what she was getting herself into. Sad to see it end that way, but..." Oghren swallows hard, trying to clear his throat. "You know..."

The dark-haired mage offers a polite smile. "So how long you figure we've been down here."

"Well..." The dwarf takes of his gloves and scratches his braided beard. "About a week and a half...give or take a few days...I tend to not keep count of time when I'm having fun." The red-headed dwarf grins.

"Right...so how long till we get out of these dank roads?" Keira covers the crown with some material and gently places it into her back pack.

"Two days, that's if we don't run into any scouting parties or stragglers." The dwarf stretches and leans his battle-axe against the rock.

The mage lets out a heavy breath. "Alright. Well get some rest, we won't be staying here very long."

* * *

An Emissary and a Revenant call upon their spells and talents to strike upon their foes, as a small group of darkspawn continue to press forward. With the use of their shields, Alistair and Cullen attempt to push the creatures back. Zevran and Kate do the best they can from the rear, sending a small cascade of arrows towards their attackers.

Oghren stands his ground by Wynne, vowing to decapitate anything that comes near the enchantress. "We can't keep going like this. Those bastards back there keep healing their wounded." He points to the Emissary and Revenant.

Understanding that more tactics will be needed, Keira marches forward. "Zev, Kate concentrate on taking down the weaker targets with your daggers, save your arrows." She shouts over her shoulder. "Alistair and Cullen, stand your ground! I want you two to focus on anything trying to press forward."

Not hearing any disagreements, Keira firmly grounds her feet and commands a storm of lightning to form over the two darkspawn mages. A few bolts strike the Emissary dead, but only seem to slow down the Revenant. The surviving, angered mage conjures a spell that slowly causes his rivals to drag toward him. Fighting against the pull on her person, Amell glances around quickly to see everyone else doing the same.

Sensing a sudden shift in the energies around them, Amell looks back at the Revenant to seem him readying for another spell. Just as Keira casts her protective wards on her friends, a bright light blasts in front of them, sending the group crashing into their surroundings. Dazed, Keira gets back onto her feet with the help of her staff. Her vision is hazy, she sees the Revenant walking towards her.

Amell falls to her knees, her two hands gripping her staff. "Back...away..."

The Demon grabs her by the throat and lifts her from the ground without effort. "Stupid Mageling. I will crush the life from you." The voice is all but a bunch of gargles and hissing.

"Stop..." Her hands grip at the creature's forearms as she tries to break free of his grip. Her breaths are ragged as the air drains from her lungs. Her eyes search for help. Her comrades, her staff, anything.

"Now you perish." The foul creature squeezes and she can feel the metal of its gauntlets cutting through her flesh.

As her world slowly turns black, Amell can feel the anger in her rise. She did not come all this way and survive all this torture only to have this demon strangle the life from her. No Keira Amell will suffer a Death worthy of a Warden.

Her hair fades to a blinding white as her eyes begin to glow. Her skin cools and her voice becomes icy and cold. "You will not stand in my way any longer foul Demon!"

The mage's fingers quickly direct the full extent of electricity to run through the veins of her attacker. "Be gone!"

The Revenant now the one on the receiving end, clamps his fists around the human's arms. His mask begins to crack as smoke slowly billows from his eye sockets. The creature lets out one last screech. Feeling that life is now gone from her enemy, Amell allows the Revenant's body to fall limp to the ground. The few darkspawn that remain are quickly dealt with as Keira now directs her spell to strike them all down.

Magic and energy running low, Keira collapses to her knees once more. She can hear the thumping of foot steps behind her.

"Are you alright?" Kate grips the dark-haired mages shoulder.

Keira doesn't respond, she simply smiles softly and allows her eyes to shut.

* * *

There's a pattern it seems, maybe even a price. One can't truly be certain of what to label it. It seems no matter where they go, violence and death is sure to follow. Has it always been this way, Amell wonders as she studies the scene before her. A room full of bodies, all because of a choice she made. As a Warden. They haven't even had the time to scrub the blood of the darkspawn off and they're tossed into yet another skirmish. Keira eyes her clothing and that of her followers, all stained with fresh blood.

"I'm tired of this." She whispers as her limbs begin to shake.

"I admit...I did not think that even Bhelen would defy the word of a Paragon." Harrowmont shakes his head, disgusted with the actions of Bhelen.

"Nor that so many would follow him. But most of Orzammar has seen him for what he truly is. And I trust that we will bring this insurgency under control." Sighing, the newly crowned King allows his eyes to linger over the dead bodies of his enemies.

Seeing that Amell is weakened, Alistair takes the reigns of the conversation. "We have faith in you."

"Indeed." Harrowmont smiles warmly. "Those loyal to the throne will begin preparations for a surface mission immediately. Orzammar will fulfill it's treaties."

Alistair places a closed fist over his chest and bows. "Thank-you my Lord."

"I expect to see you all tomorrow evening." The King doesn't turn to face his new friends. "Preparations for a celebratory feast have already begun. In my honor and that of the Grey Wardens."

Alistair glances over his shoulder and sees that Keira is barely holding up her own weight. Their leader clings to her staff, trying to seem somewhat normal. "We would be honored." The human prince lowers his head.

"Good. I'll make arrangements for your stay." Harrowmont nods and makes his way past the small group. "Feel free to stay as long as required."

"You're too kind." Alistair offers a gentle smile.

* * *

The covers of his bed are ripped off, causing him to bolt up. Cullen smacks his forehead on the bed canopy as he tries to quickly stand. The sudden thump forces him to sit back down. Wincing, the Templar takes in a small breath, trying to dull the pain in his head.

"Where is she?" Wynne is angry. This is not good.

"W-who?" The Templar rubs his eyes, exhausted. He tries to focus his vision on the angered Enchantress.

"Keira." Wynne sighs, resting a hand on her hip. "I went to check on her, see how she's fairing...and she wasn't in her room."

"A-alright." Cullen grabs his shirt that he'd tossed onto a nearby chair earlier. "I'll go find her."

The old woman taps the bottom of her staff on the stone floor. "Good. And when you do find that stubborn mage, be sure to remind her that if she doesn't have a proper rest on her own, that I'll be forced to take stronger measures."

Covering a yawn with his fist, Cullen tries to nod and makes his way down the hallway.

It's dark, but there are torches lit here and there as he slowly and tiredly stumbles down the corridors. As the Templar rounds a sharp corner, he hears small whispers and sees the flickering light of a candle coming from a doorway. Gently he pushes the door, that had been left ajar, open.

To his complete surprise, he finds Keira slumped over a large table, fast asleep over some books and parchment. The whispering he'd heard is coming from a young dwarf, who seems too busy reading to even notice him.

Cullen makes his way to Amell and gently grips her shoulder. "Keira." He says in a hushed tone, trying not to startle her.

"She's been out for a little while." The dwarven girl holds a book lovingly against her chest and smiles warmly at him when he turns to look at her.

"H-how long has she...been here?" He glances back at the mage's sleeping form.

"Oh, you mean in general? I'm not sure...a few hours maybe. She sent for me...had me bring some of my research and books with me." Still the dwarf smiles up at him. Then it dawns on him.

"Dagna...right?" He winces in her direction, hoping he got the name correct.

"One and only." The young dwarf places her book on the table. "She needs rest...and I tried telling her that. But all she really seemed concerned about was finding everything she could on Lyrium."

The Templar takes in a heavy breath and moves some of the papers around with his fingers. He sees titles of books and works he's never heard of before, lists of ingredients for spells and their uses. "I...Uhm, I should bring her back to her room."

"This research she's doing." The young girl studies the Knight's movements. "It has something to do with you...doesn't it?" She raises a brow in his direction.

Exhaling, Cullen grins sadly in Dagna's direction.

"That's why you feel guilty..." Dagna ponders this for a moment. "Here let me grab her things and you can carry her."

Cullen shakes his head. "You're...uhm...quite bossy for one your size."

"Better believe it. Now let's get going." The small dwarf places all of Keira's belongings into a pack and heads down the corridor.

Being as gentle as he can, the Knight gathers Amell into his arms and follows the dwarf. Guilt continues to weigh down on his shoulders with every step he takes. Knowing that she continues her research to the point of exhaustion for his sake, doesn't help the matter.

"I'll just put her things on this chair." Dagna deposits the bag, lights a fire and makes her way for the door.

"Thank-you." Cullen whispers over his shoulder.

"Any time big guy." With a smile she shuts the door.

The Templar deposits the mage into the soft bed, covers her with the bedding and takes a seat by the fire on the floor. He warms his hands with the heat of the flames, and inwardly continues to berate himself. As his inner war rages on, he hears Amell stir in her sheets.

_Why won't she let it be?_ Whatever they did with Jowan's blood magic seems to have put a stop to Cullen's episodes. The Templar's skin crawls at the thought of that form of magic being used on him. Sparks are sent up the chimney shaft as a piece of wood cracks. Cullen's eyes continue scanning the fire, as if the flames have the answers to all his questions. _And why am I so hell-bent on upholding my Templar ways of thinking?_

Cullen dust his palms off on his pants, glances over at the sleeping mage and leaves the room.

* * *

The youngest of the Couslands observers her figure in a mirror. "You can rest you know. You don't have to stay for the entire thing." Kate tries to adjust the burgundy bodice of her gown.

Sitting on Kate's bed, Keira eyes her friend with curiosity. "I didn't think you knew how to put one of those on." The mage giggles with amusement at the amount of ease Kate has with dressing so elaborately.

"Well I am...was..." The Rogue clears her throat. "A noblewoman." Kate turns from her mirror satisfied with her garments and hair placement. "I'm serious. We're all a little worried about you. You need to take it easy. I think for some reason the Deep Roads was hardest on you."

"I can't explain it. That journey really drained me. I feel tired all the time, but there's just so much I need to get done." Amell decides to check herself over in the mirror. Her hair has been carefully braided in an up do with baby's breath and white lilies. Her robes, a gift from Harrowmont, are hand crafted and enchanted by the dwarfs. A golden circlet around her neck is the only thing keeping her robes from falling, the emerald-green and beige material attach and fall from the neck piece leaving her shoulders bare and little to the imagination. Keira's chest and abdomen piece are covered in a light-colored leather that's been decorated with ornate ruins and symbols.

"Those robes look beautiful on you." Kate smiles warmly.

Amell turns to face her friend while playing with a few loose strands of her hair. "Why do we need to be so dressed up?"

Kate can clearly tell that the mage feels a bit out-of-place. "It's tradition to throw a party in the honor of someone who saved your skin." She places a hand on Amell's shoulder. "And I'm guessing it's a rare thing for these people to see a mage. Not to mention one who also happens to be a Grey Warden."

"I guess you're right." The mage brushes off her friend with a wave and a laugh. "Alright, let's get this over with."

* * *

Massive stone doors open as a King Harrowmont welcomes the celebrated guests of the evening. "Our most Honored and welcomed friends, please join us." He ushers them into the hall.

The group makes their way towards their prepared table. Alistair and Keira make sure to place themselves near the head of the table as requested by the staff.

Harrowmont approaches Keira. "It pleases me to know that you accept my gift. And might I also add that you look absolutely stunning."

"You're too kind, my Lord." Amell blushes slightly, the attention her gown is bringing is not something she's unfamiliar with, but is still something that makes her feel uncomfortable.

Clearly more at ease then before, the King regards Alistair. "She's a fine woman. I'd do what I could if I were you, before this one ends up married." He offers a polite smile.

The prince and the mage share a confused look and then continue their meal.

Music and performances are enjoyed as time passes by. Keira tries to keep her focus on the entertainment as a migraine pounds in her skull. She shifts in her chair and notices Cullen glancing back at her. This is the fifth time she's caught him doing so from the end of the large table. Amell brings her attention back to the performers as the act comes to an end and applause is heard. She drags tired and trembling fingers over right temple.

Alistair leans on the arm of his chair. "Are you alright?" He asks, accidentally startling the mage.

"Uhm...me? Yes...yes, I'm fine. Just a head ache." She smiles, but she can tell it doesn't fool him. Her green eyes look down the length of table, from the corner of her eye she can see the Templar staring at her with concern. She silently mouths the words _I'm fine_ in his direction, hoping he'll stop worrying.

A fine cord is strummed and King Harrowmont stands from his chair. "Please everyone, this is as good as anytime to celebrate." He waves to the musicians, signaling for them to player louder. A slow tune is played as a bard begins to sing a melody in a language Keira doesn't know. With their dancing partners already assigned prior to the meal, everyone from Amell's table stands and heads out to dance. Her eyes study her friends movements as they slowly glide across the floor.

"Keira?" Alistair holds out his hand, his brow still knit with concern. "Lets get you to your room."

"No...I'm...I'm fine. I can do this." She protests, knowing full well that most of the onlookers are here to see her. They showed just to see her, a mage. How could she possibly let these people down?

With his hand on her waist, Alistair begins to lead. "Alright, one silly dance, then you need to rest. Agreed?"

Letting out a quick breath, Keira nods, agreeing with his terms.

As the song continues, Amell can feel the throbbing in her temples increase. "So you were telling me once you were raised by wolves?" Maybe conversation will keep her mind off of the pain.

"Nope. Dogs, slobbering ones." Alistair lifts a brow. "We can sit down if you want."

The mage shakes of his suggestion. "Just need to focus on something other than a bunch of people staring at me...this constant throbbing pain in my head... and I should be fine." She tries to put on a cheerful smile.

"Right...well then. How about we discuss ways on how to make me 'not' King." The Prince tries for flat humor. "Because you know...I just have this bad, bad feeling that..."

"Alistair. If you don't want to be King, then we'll make it so it doesn't happen. No one can force you to do something you do want to. Besides, I'm sure there are a few good people who would be fit for the job." The mage squeezes his large hand gently.

"Well then, clearly you don't know nobles...or well anyone involved in politics for that matter. Everyone that I've ever known, accept for you, has always made my choices for me." Alistair sets his jaw firmly. "It would be nice if I was the one making the choices that affect my life for once. But...listen to me...babbling about things that haven't happened yet." He grins showing a bit of his teeth. "First things first...we need to actually survive this blight."

Amell's pace begins to slow as her vision slowly blurs.

Grabbing hold of her elbows, Alistair tries to help her regain her balance. "Hey, I was just kidding."

"Oh...uhm...it's not that." The mage's knees give out and she can feel herself sway.

"Woah. I got you." Alistair grabs hold of her waist and steadies her.

Keira can hear a few people around them gasp. Her vision still blurry, she sees a large figure make its way towards them.

"What's wrong?" Cullen's voice, a pitch below panic.

"She was complaining about a migraine. Guess it's all been a bit too much for her." Guiding her slowly, Alistair begins to walk towards the doors. "I'll take her to her room and make sure she gets some rest."

"I'm coming with you." The Templar informs.

"No, stay here. These people need to see The Grey Wardens." Alistair tries to sound reassuring. "She'll be fine. She just needs to sleep. I'll send for Wynne if I need to. Now go on."

Seeing that what Alistair says makes sense, Cullen opts to listening to him. "Alright."

* * *

"Did you want me to put on some tea for you?" Alistair helps the mage sit on the edge of her bed.

Rubbing her forehead with her index finger Keira tries to focus on his words. "Uhm...uh...no. Thank you."

Remembering a few tricks from Wynne, Alistair brings over a cold wet clothe and presses it to the back of Amell's neck. "There that should help." He takes a seat beside the mage on the mattress.

"Thanks." She shuts her eyes.

"So what's with the migraines all of a sudden?" He stretches, waiting for her answer.

"Uhm...not sure, really. Could be over exposure to raw lyrium...maybe I'm sensitive to it or something. Could be the type of spells I'm using. Or maybe it's being underground...I'm not sure yet." She hisses lightly between gritted teeth as a wave of pain hits her. "But if you ask me...whatever this is can go away now."

Alistair snickers and shakes his head.

"Thanks for helping me...but really I'm fine..." The mage insists.

"Yeah don't even think about it." Alistair scoffs as he wanders around the room.

"What?" Amell opens her eyes.

"I told your big body-guard back there, that I would keep an eye one you. And that's what I'm going to do." Finding what he was searching for, Alistair grabs the blanket from the back of a chair and wraps it around Keira's shoulders. "We both know what he would do to me if I didn't keep my word."

Her tired eyes stare back at him. He pushes a falling lily back into place in her hair. "You look beautiful tonight...not that you don't any other time..." Alistair clears his throat.

Keira blinks slowly, the pain in her head starting to really get to her. "Thanks." She attempts a lop sided smile. "Wish I was better company...and a better guest."

"I'm sure everyone understands. It's not everyday someone goes strolling into the deep roads for a crown you know." Alistair is still focused on her eyes. He knows he should look away, he can see that he's starting to make her feel uncomfortable. Abruptly, he places his thumb and finger against her chin, tilts her head up and kisses her lips softly.

To his surprise she doesn't struggle or pull away. Only when he tries to deepen their kiss, does he feel a hand press against his chest, gently pushing him away.

"Alistair..." The mage pulls away and lowers her gaze, unable to look him in the eyes.

"You love him." He breathes out heavily, his eyes closed. Disappointed, but not surprised, he lowers his head and bites at his lower lip.

"Yes." She whispers.

"You know... he might not ever let go of what he is. Forsaking any chance you might have together." He states trying to reason with her.

"Yes." Keira admits and her eyes moisten.

Lifting a brow in her direction, he tries to understand. "I would make you happy. I would openly love you."

"I know." She lowers her gaze, ashamed, knowing his words to be true.

_Silence._

"Alistair..."

He forces down a lump in his throat. "How's your pain?"

"Better." She lies. "I think I'll rest now, if that's alright." A silent permission for him to leave without guilt.

"Right. How about I find Wynne. Get her to watch over you. Maybe she'll make you that special tea of hers." Alistair can feel his smile fade.

"Thank you." The mage climbs under her covers.

Just as he's about to close the door and leave, Alistair stops and eyes her form from over his shoulder. "If he ever...does anything, to make you feel...less then what you are...or hurts you..." He doesn't go into detail, he doesn't have to.

"Thank you." Keira lies her head down on her pillow. "And for what it's worth...I'm sorry."

* * *

As he heads back to the banquet hall, Alistair spots Cullen marching towards him. Just as he's about to make a comment, the Templar brushes past him. The unspoken tension between them, now more obvious than ever.

"I was just going to look for Wynne." The bastard prince informs the other man, who comes to a halt.

Cullen is no fool, he can sense that something is different. His fists are closed tightly at his sides. Anger builds in him. But his rage isn't directed at Alistair, he's upset with himself. _Coward._ He's allowed the one thing he's ever wanted to slip right through his fingers. _At least she'll be with a good man._ But he's still her protector, he has to make sure that...

"Hey...big guy." Alistair takes a few daring steps towards the other male. No one around but the tapestries in the halls to hear their echoed voices.

The turmoil is clear in the Templar Knight's demeanor. "She chose you." He informs, without reason, just a gut feeling. One that tells him he's right.

"W-what are you talking about?" Cullen turns around swiftly.

"It's probably for the best too." The Prince snorts. "Somehow I know I'll be forced into the throne...a relationship with a mage...they'd make sure to put a stop to that." Alistair rolls his eyes, annoyed with the hand he's been dealt in life. "Maker...how would I be able to live with myself if we ever started something...only to have it taken away..."

Alistair is now just a few feet away from the other Templar. "So the question now is...what are you going to do about it?" His brow lowers as he awaits the other man's answer.

"I...uh...I'm not sure." Cullen mutters. Relieved. Still, he feels his inner struggles. "I'm kind of...well...confused." He scratches at his jaw line, hoping he chose the right words to explain himself. Staring at his feet, he silently prays for guidance, in any form.

"Look. You're no longer shackled by the rules of the Chantry." Alistair grasps Cullen by the shoulders and shakes him lightly. "Don't let people who aren't you govern your choices in life." Th Prince drops his hands to his sides. "I'm going back..." He points with his thumb over his shoulder. "Want me to fetch Wynne?"

"Hmmm? Oh...uhm no, that's fine." Cullen crosses him arms, going over Alistair's words.

"Alright." Alistair heads back to the banquet hall.

"Alistair..." Cullen raises his voice enough so that the other man can hear him. "Thanks."

Nodding, Alistair continues on his way.


	19. Chapter 19 : Failures and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Want to see how I picture Amell and Surana? http://vamporchid.deviantart.com/gallery/24184153/Dragon-Age this is my deviant art page with the drawing and stuff I've done of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : First and foremost I would love to thank everyone who keeps reading and/or reviewing my stories. It's humbling to know that so many of you like to read what I write. Also, I'm getting closer to the point where I need to write more chapters...so I'm sure these posts of chapters will die down quite a bit.
> 
> Disclaimer : Still don't anything...it's all Bioware's still...accept my OCs

**Chapter 19 : Failures and Revelations**

Sitting in a chair near the bedroom's door, Cullen sits hunched, elbows placed on his knees as he tiredly rubs his thumbs over his eye lids. Quietly he stifles a yawn, as his dark-haired charge stirs in her sleep. He stares at his hands as he rubs his palms together, more out of habit when thinking then anything else. Reminiscing on how he's gotten to where he is, Cullen recalls some treasured and some not so pleasant memories.

* * *

_Kinloch Hold Four years earlier..._

_A Templar rounds a darkened corner, while going over a parchment with his list of scheduled shifts for the following month. He clenches his jaw as he notices that he will be on night shifts once more, for his third consecutive month in a row. Trying to stay positive, he reminds himself that 'the new guy' gets the grunt work when they first start out. As he makes his way down the corridor, his ears pick up a few sounds. Shuffling and sniffling. A torch in the distance sheds but a sliver of light on a figure sitting in the shadows._

_"Who's there? Show yourself." His thumb is hooked in his belt near his sword._

_"Just...leave me be..." A timid female voice, followed by another sniffle._

_Remaining cautious, he shifts his weight and tries to get a better look at this stranger. All of his training warns him not to get any closer, but curiosity gets the better of him. Rookie._

_"A-are you alright...my lady?" The Templar tries to sink to her level by sitting on his haunches. In an attempt to suggest that he's of no threat, he fold his hands._

_Her brown eyes finally visible through the fading light, focus on his face. The Templar recognizes this woman, this mage. Not her name, but he's seen her around the tower._

_"I'm fine." She says with distrust clear in her voice._

_Staring down at his feet, the Templar spots the edge of her apprentice robes, stained with dried blood. As if reading his mind, the mage pulls her feet into the shadows, dragging her soiled clothing with her._

_"L-let me take a look at you..." Slowly he raises a hand and leans forward. "You...you may need to see a healer."_

_He can hear her recoil from him. "Don't...don't touch me." The mage whispers, frightened._

_Confused, the Templar drops his hand. "I'm...I'm not going to hurt you. I-I just want to make sure you're alright."_

_The young man waits for the cornered mage to make her move. After a few seconds, he hears the woman sniffle and move forward._

_"Fine."_

_She moves forward, her eyes stay focused on the floor. She appears nervous and a bit pale. As the mage moves her hair behind her ear, the Templar notices a dark bruise along her cheek and jaw. There's blood, dried and crusted along her hair-line and ear. Feeling uneasy, the mage licks her bottom lip, which he notices is also cut and swollen._

_"M-makers breath...who did this to you?" Without thinking, he reaches for her face and gently tilts her head from side to side. Carefully, he inspects her for any other injuries._

_A bit shocked by his question, the mage raises a brow. "Are you joking?" She's fairly sure he's quite new around here, but surely he's been a Templar for a while. You don't end up in Kinloch without a few years of training. "You can't be this naïve?"_

_His brown eyes widen when they meet hers. Reality sets in for him at this moment. The stories that he's heard about some of his brethren, are true._

_"A-are you saying a Templar did this to you?" His hands hold her face still, wanting the truth from this frail woman._

_"A Templar?" She laughs. Pulling her face from his hands, she turns her head and spits out the blood that had settled in her mouth. "This time...no. This time, it was a pack of stupid idiots..."_

_"This time..." The Templar repeats in a hushed tone. "W-what do you mean this time..."_

_Again, she raises a brow in the man's direction. "What's your name Ser?"_

_"M-my name? It's...Uh...Cullen." He takes off his gauntlet and wipes a hand over his face._

_"Nice to meet you, Cullen. I'm Keira Amell." She offers her hand and to her amazement he takes it._

_"Pleased to make your acquaintance."_

* * *

Cullen lets out a shaky breath. This memory, although it's the first time they had met, is still a grim picture. He hates how this scene plays over and over in his head. Her, covered in blood and bruises, as he tries to make sense of everything. And it wouldn't be the last time he sees her like this, or the worst.

Sometimes, Keira would get the better of her attackers, Templars or fellow mages. Other times, she wasn't so lucky. If the men of the Tower weren't making advances on her, the women were finding new ways to make her life unbearable. He hates that he's lost count of how many times Thalia would come looking for him, informing him of what had happened. There were times where Keira would be trapped somewhere, tricked or forced into these places that would close up behind her and lock her in. Countless times he's had to break up fights between her and other apprentices, usually started by someone either verbally or physically attacking Thalia and Jowan.

Then there were the other times. The ones where she'd been badly beaten or worse.

How he'd curse himself later on for not being faster or for not trusting his gut. These were the nights where he'd train for hours on end or pray to Andraste, hoping she'd grant him with better understanding of those around him.

And then there's the one memory, the one that shakes him to the core every time he thinks of it.

Thalia, Jowan and Keira had just finished their studies for the night and were hopeful to get their Harrowing done with in the next few months. To thank their instructor for letting them use the library longer then the regular curfew, the small group had agreed to clean and organize the books on the shelves. The two Templars on duty that night had not been informed of these details.

Cullen breathes heavily between the gap of his closed hands.

* * *

_Kinloch Tower, two winters prior._

_It's cold, bloody cold. Cullen never could understand why there weren't more fireplaces. He rolls over to his side and shuts his eyes, hoping to ignore the chill in his bones. Just as he's about to fall asleep, he hears footsteps outside his door. There's hushed murmurs as if the two people on the other side are discussing something important. He can see the shadows of their feet moving about and then there's a knock._

_"Cullen?" Thalia whispers._

_"Are you absolutely positive that this is his room?" Jowan tries to reason with the other mage._

_"Yes...trust me." Another knock. "Please Cullen...open the door."_

_Knowing that Thalia has only ever sought him out in his own room one other time, the Templar Knight knows this has to be urgent. An apprentice could be seriously punished, if caught out of their room past curfew, not to mention caught roaming about in the Templars quarters._

_Quickly, Cullen throws on his tunic and leather pants, grabs his sword and opens the door. "What's wrong?" He notices someone missing from the usual trio. "Where's Amell?"_

_A few hours later, Keira is in her dorm room, her more serious injuries healed by the hands of Wynne. Thalia remains by her side, continuing to heal the more superficial things._

_"It's a good thing I need you to do this for me this often. Gives you practice...keeps you on your toes." Keira tries for humor, while Surana uses her magic to lessen the swelling by her left eye._

_"Keira..." A tear falls from the elf's eye and lands on the sheets of Amell's bed._

_"I know..." The dark-haired mage whispers. Taking her friend's hand in hers, Keira's mood saddens. "Sorry..."_

_From the other end of the room, Jowan stares menacingly at the Templar Knight who's remained on guard near the entrance. Unable to stand the sight of this man, Jowan storms past Cullen, brushing by violently. Cullen watches as the other man stomps down the hallway._

_"He's just upset." The elven mage casts a spell she hopes will help her friend sleep._

_"Well...I-I don't blame him. One of his friends have been...have been..." The Templar swallows a lump in his throat. "I-I can't even bring myself to say it, the act is so repulsive."_

_"This isn't your fault." Thalia makes her way to the doorway where Cullen is standing._

_"I-it doesn't matter...I represent the same authority. I wear the same symbol as..as those who..." They both stare at his forearm, the tattoo there a reminder of where his allegiances are._

_Thalia smiles up at him warmly. "You're different from them...you know it...and so do we."_

_A few weeks crawl by, and with every day that had passed Cullen, Thalia and Jowan had grown more and more concerned about Keira's mental state. The mage's appetite had all but vanished and she had become severely depressed. Surana had to force her friend to get up and get dressed in the mornings, a few times she even had to force her to bathe._

_"I'm worried about her." Thalia folds her arms over a few books against her chest. Her eyes follow Keira's form as she slowly makes her way up the spiral stair case._

_"L-lets give her some...space...for now. I'll go with you...we can uh...check on her after your next class." The Templar tries to sound as reassuring as possible._

_Exhaling deeply, Thalia shakes her head. "Alright."_

_As promised, a few hours later, Cullen is waiting for the elven mage. Together they climb the staircase to the female dormitories. Scanning the room, they notice that no one is there._

_"I'll check over there..." She points to the Garde de Robe and heads in that direction._

_Everything is quiet until he hears Thalia shouting. "What in Thedas? Keira!"_

_Panic._

_His heart is pounding in his throat and ears, as he darts across the room in record time. Slamming the door wide open, with one of his hands resting on the pommel of his sword, he scans the area for danger. Not finding anything, his sights quickly fall on the scene before him. Keira heating a kitchen knife with a fire spell. Reflexes getting the better of him, Cullen quickly slaps the cutlery from her grasp._

_The mage immediately goes for a pair of scissors on a nearby table, which he also tears from her grip. She begins sobbing uncontrollably._

_"Makers Breath Amell!" The Templar can feel his blood pumping through his veins. Adrenaline. "What are you doing? Have you gone mad?"_

_The mage turns away, her eyes survey the room. A mirror, she picks up a stool and tosses it at the reflective glass. Keira lets out a cry of frustration. Cullen wraps his arms around the delirious mage. At first she struggles and squirms. The mage screams and then continues to sob._

_"Calm down." He tries to sound neutral, but deep down, her actions have him unnerved ._

_Keira stops her struggles and Cullen loosens his grip around her. Not making any sudden movements, the Templar decides to try to resolve this situation._

_"What were you trying to accomplish here?" He straightens his back, hoping that he seems authoritative._

_Taking in a long inhale, Keira tilts her head back. "I just wanted to look different...even horrific..." She scoffs. "Maybe then...they'd leave me alone."_

_Angered at her train of thought, Cullen grabs her by the wrist and forces her to turn around. Shocked, Amell stares at his hand, this is the first time he's ever shown any sign of aggression towards her._

_"So this is your answer?!" He points to the discarded knife on the floor. "You're constantly telling Thalia to stay strong...that someday the rules will change. How will that happen if you can't prove that you can remain stable?"_

_The Templar releases her wrist. "They'll need to see that mages can overcome everything and still be functional on their own. You need to show them that you can still walk with your head held high, even...even if you shoulders carry a heavy burden. Don't let them win by lowering yourself to their level."_

_"I don't want to...but now...now I'm afraid. Every night, I'm afraid of what's waiting for me... in the dark. Demon, Templar, mage. What new torture will they come up with next?" She wipes at her eyes with her sleeves. "There's nothing or no one to help me when...I'm alone..."_

_"Keira..." Thalia fights back tears that threaten to fall._

_"I'll do it..." Cullen mutters._

_Confused, the elven mage blinks in his direction. "What?"_

_"I'll do it." He confirms. "Every night... I'll watch over you...the both of you...while you sleep."_

_"Cullen...you can't..." Surana begins to argue. "There's no way."_

_"Why not?" He clears his throat. "The night shift is dreaded by most. If I made a request to be put on permanent nights...it wouldn't be denied."_

_"Keira reason with him..." The younger mage looks to her friend, hoping she'll convince the Templar that his plan is absurd._

_The dark-haired mage takes a few steps closer. "You'd...you'd do that?"_

* * *

The only part of this memory that he treasures, is their late night staring contests. He snickers at the thought that such a lighthearted thing can come from such an ominous time in their lives. Smiling, he tries to count how many times they had played that game, and how many times he'd won.

"What are you smiling about?" Amell stretches and sits up in her bed.

"I...uh...uhm...nothing." He drops his hands and lays back in the chair.

"Uh huh..." Unconvinced, the mage lifts a brow in his direction. Slipping out from under the covers, Keira makes her way towards the hearth and readies herself a cup of tea.

"Feeling any better?" He asks, genuinely worried.

"A little. Want some?" She holds up the kettle.

"Uhmm...n-no. Thank-you." He studies her motions as she sips at her steaming mug. "D-do you ever...uhm...think about the Tower? And the things we've...you've been through there?"

"Sometimes." Keira uses the warm cup to heat up the palms of her hands. "Why?"

The Templar Knight rises from his seat and walks over to the fireplace. "I was just...thinking. About how we met." He glances at her from the corner of his eye. "A-and the...uhm...all the things leading up to us getting here."

Amell deposits her mug on an end table. "Is there something you're trying to tell me? Because I'm not following...could be my migraine...or maybe I'm still tired..."

Cullen raises a hand. "N-no...well it's..." He lets out a puff of breath and places his hands on his hips. He's having a hard time with finding the right words, he begins pacing. "I-It's just... I can't imagine a future where I'm not around to protect you. Does that make sense? I-I'm never really very good at explaining myself." The Templar runs a hand through his hair.

Stunned, but sympathetic, Keira places a hand on his shoulder, ending his pacing. "It makes sense." Her smile is loving and warm.

"Is it wrong that...that I want to be near you? That I want to be more in your life then just some...some sentry that remains in the shadows?" He rests his forehead against her own.

"Could you live with yourself...knowing you harbor feelings for a mage?" Keira tilts her head to look into his eyes.

"I have so far." The Knight presses his lips against hers and wraps his arms around her waist.

A surprised whimper escapes her mouth as she entwines her arms around his neck. Stretching to the tip of her toes to reach his height, Amell presses up against the Templar. "Are you sure about this?" She gives him one last chance to change his mind. "Because we can stop."

Pulling her closer, Cullen finds her lips once more. Their kiss becoming more fiery, Cullen guides the mage with his movements as he slowly walks them back to the bed. Her hands are at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head almost quicker then he can take in a breath. As their mouths find each other once more, his hands are carefully undoing the back lacing of her corset. Gently, he places himself over Amell as he lays her down onto the bedding. The Templar kicks off his boots and then begins lifting the robes by her thigh with one hand.

Her pelvis presses up into his when his thumb caress her hip bone. This sudden movement causes him to groan against her tongue. With an urgency they can't explain, they continue to deepen their kiss. Cullen helps her remove the rest of her robes, while she begins undoing his belt and pants. Tossing the covers over their lower halves, Cullen places himself once more. Their naked skin is slick with perspiration and their breathing is ragged. As he readies himself, he takes a moment to stare at the mage beneath him. Her eyes wide with want and excitement.

She stares back at him. "You alright? Want to slow things down?"

He knows he's making the right choice. The Templar presses into her warmth with a moan. The woman beneath him pants and trembles as she grasps his upper arms, pulling him down to her.

* * *

The doors to the banquet hall open to show a new surprise. Thalia's group makes their way through the crowd as Kate and Zevran hurry to meet them. From the very far end, Wynne waves at them with a smile. Then Enchantress ends her conversation and then makes her way towards the newly arrived group.

A few of the locals gawk at the size and height of Sten as he slowly passes by. "Hmph."

"Sten, most of these people have probably never seen someone of your...stature before." Ty tries to explain to his Qunari companion.

As the rest of the tired group lingers behind, Thalia and Fergus make their way through the large crowd to meet up with Wynne.

"Child! It's so welcoming to see you once again." The two mages share an embrace. "And you look well. That warms this old woman's heart."

"And so do you!" Thalia sports a charming smile. "We've all managed to remain unharmed." The elven mage's eyes scan the large room. "How did you all fair?"

"Oh we're fine. Even managed to pick up another straggler." Wynne points to the red-headed dwarf, who nods back in their direction.

"I see...but...where's Keira." Surana asks, her smile fading.

"Oh don't look so grim my dear. She's fine." The Enchantress assures. "She's just resting. Alistair made sure she made it to her room. And don't look so worried...it's just a few migraines."

"Migraines...again?" Thalia sighs.

"I'm sure she's fine love. Why don't you go find her and I'll catch up with the rest of the group." Fergus places a kiss on the side of the elf's forehead, then makes his way over towards his sister, who all but tackles him to the floor with a large embrace.

Wynne raises a suspicious brow. Thalia rolls her eyes at the old woman. "Don't even start." Surana smiles as she removes her gloves. "Where's Keira's room?"

* * *

As the elven mage walks down the corridor towards her long time friends room, she tries to decide the best way to surprise the other mage. Should she burst in the room yelling _'Keira'_ , or should she calmly make her way into the room in case she's still resting? Thalia decides she can do a combination of the two. She'll sneak into Keira's room, make her way to the bed and wake her friend with a warm hug and a smile.

As she nears the door, she can't help but feel like a child waiting to play a prank on someone. With a wide smile, she bites at her lower lip and slowly begins to open the door. The door knob turns without a sound. Smug and a bit proud, Thalia chews at the tip of her tongue, trying to keep herself from laughing. As the door slowly opens, she detects a faint sound.

_Is that heavy breathing? Maybe she's still not feeling well._

Light from the fire sneaks out as the door opens further, a little more than a crack for one of her eyes to peer in. She soon discovers how the noise is being made. Surana covers her mouth with her hand, to prevent any exclamation from escaping her lips. With her one eye looking in, Surana can see the side of Keira's bed. The dark-haired mage has her arms wrapped around the naked torso of a man who's stationed over her bare frame. Holding on to Amell's thigh, the man continues grinding his hips. The couple continues to moan quietly, thankfully the bedding covers the rest of their naked bodies. Too enraptured in each other, the couple continues with their endeavors.

As the blushing elven mage begins to gently close the door, she notices something on the forearm of the male partner. A tattoo. _Cullen._ With eyes wide with shock, Thalia closes the door softly, trying to avoid attention being drawn to herself.

"What in Andraste's ass?" Thalia shakes her head, attempting to forget the events she just witnessed. Quickly, wanting to be nowhere near this area, Surana speeds down the corridor. Too busy trying to forget what she'd just seen, she accidentally bumps into Alistair.

"Woah. Hey! Thalia! So nice to see you!" The bastard prince wraps his arms around his friend's shoulders. "I saw everyone else...Fergus brought us up to speed with everything..." He notices how anxious she looks, flustered even. "Uhm...are you alright?"

"I...uh...I was just..." Surana eyes the doors leading back to the banquet hall.

Alistair looks over his shoulder and then back at the little elf. "Is she still sleeping? We best wake her...you know she'll be angry if we don't inform her of your return." He begins heading towards Keira's room.

"Uh...wait!" Thalia grabs the prince by the forearm. "You didn't tell me how things went here? The...uh...dwarf. You can't be too happy about having another person tag along." She jests and pokes him in the ribs, hoping he'll take the bait and start a conversation. She'd feel horrible if he, a man who obviously cares deeply for Amell, stumbled in on Keira and Cullen's _alone_ time.

"Cullen's in there still. Isn't he?" With a sad grin, Alistair sighs. "And they're..." He pauses to look down the hall, and then at his feet. "Busy."

The elven mage's grip loosens. "Uhm...yeah. That they are." She blushes.

"You poor thing...you got an eye full didn't you?" Alistair snickers. "Wow. I didn't think he would go through with...and to be in there now...wow."

"I...was routing for you." Thalia notices a puzzled look on his face. "Look, I like Cullen. I really do. He's always been there for us. And there's always been something there...between the two of them. But I was really hoping it'd be you."

"Thanks." Alistair pats her hand and begins to lead her back to the party. "So I heard about the talking tree."

"Yeah..."


	20. Chapter Twenty : The Winds of Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : Yeah, a bit of time in between updates, I apologize. But here I am with a new chapter!
> 
> Disclaimer : Yeah yeah I own nothing...

**Chapter Twenty : The Winds of Change**

It's hard to tell time here, there's no sun, no moon and no stars. Being underground feels like an endless twilight, without the stars. Figures carved in stone, never to utter a single word, line the corridors, their faces blank and all-knowing, their eyes staring into oblivion. _Spooky_. Torches on the wall continue to glow and cascade shadows across the floor as Thalia and Fergus make their way towards their appointed guest quarters.

"You've been distant and quiet love." Fergus drapes an arm over Surana's shoulders and pulls her close to his frame. "Did you speak with Keira?"

Sighing, the elven mage wraps her arms around her lovers waist as they continue down the hall. "I...no. I did not." Images of Amell and Cullen flash through her mind's eye and force her to grimace.

Noticing her sudden discomfort, Fergus decides to press the issue further. "Was she resting or busy?" He knows that Keira would never pass up the opportunity to speak with her closest friend. Especially when they've been apart for so long.

"She...yes. She was busy." The elf answers quickly. "We should get some rest. She'll probably want to leave first thing in the morning...whenever that is." A poor attempt to change the subject and she knows it.

Fergus opens the door to their room and stands aside to let the mage in. "After you." He presses a light hand on the small of her back.

"I wonder if it bothered her...never knowing what time of day it was...or what day it was." Surana begins playing with her finger nails. "That must have been something hard for her to deal with."

Fergus raises a brow. "Possibly." Sitting at the edge of the bed, he removes his boots and takes off his armor. Stretching the tired muscles in his upper back, he frowns at the pain this action causes.

Thalia begins pacing the floor while undoing her long white braid. "And...the Archedemon. Alistair told us about how they had to hide. I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like."

Forearms resting on his knees, Fergus decides not to make her odd behavior an issue. He watches with curiosity, as his little mage paces back and forth. Drained of energy, he takes off his shirt and rubs a hand over his tired face.

"And...and lets not forget that Broodmother thing." The elven mage shivers at the mention of that foul creature.

Sighing, Fergus takes a quick look around the room, wondering what could be the cause of her anxiety. "Am I doing something to make you uncomfortable?"

At a lost as to how he would come to such a conclusion, Thalia stops her rant and makes her way to the bed. "Never." Her features soften and she places a kiss on his lips as she sits next to him.

"Well then, tell me what's disturbing your thoughts? You haven't been yourself." He places a hand on her knee.

Surana's eyes fall to his hand. "I...it's..." Looking up at his caring face, she exhales loudly. "Well...at first, I was worried. You know, when we first got here."

Fergus offers her an encouraging nod.

"I was so worried that Keira would disapprove...of us. I had this speech all planned out." A small grin plays across her face. "About how it doesn't matter that I'm elven and a mage...and blah blah blah. I was convinced that she'd either understand or that I could get her to."

Fergus squeezes her hand gently. "I see. And now you're forced to wait with all this built up anticipation."

"Yes...no. Well...kind of...and then..." She exhales a large enough breath that forces her strands of hair to dance around her face. "This is horrible of me. But, I find that I'm rather disappointed in her as well." As soon as she says it, she realizes what she's let slip out. She cringes, knowing he'll expect a better explanation from her.

"Thalia...what's going on?" Fergus's brow knits with confusion.

Shoulders slouching forward, the white-haired elf gives in. "Ugh, I didn't mean for that to slip out."

"Well it did." His thumb makes small circles over the top of her knuckles.

"Alright..." Surana sighs, hating to have to relive the moment. "I went to Keira's room. I wanted to surprise her. Wynne had said that Keira had been having her migraines again. I was going to sneak in...just like I use to use back at the Tower..."

"I remember Alistair saying that she was ill. Go on." Fergus looks back at the elf, his features neutral.

Rolling her shoulders, Surana tries to rid herself of feeling dirty. She had intruded on something very private and intimate and was about to divulge this information. The entire thing has her confused.

"It's just..." Thalia thinks the matter over for a quick second and calms her mind. "I saw Keira...and Cullen. In bed... together." She whispers the last word, shaking her head, knowing she had to tell someone. The elven mage feels disgusted with herself for discussing something so chaste without her friends consent.

"Alright...?" Fergus clears his throat, unfamiliar with what he should be saying. "If you ask me it's about time!" He admits while smiling and makes his way towards the head of the bed.

"What? Are you joking?" Thalia is completely taken aback.

Resting his hands on his hips, Fergus adjusts his posture. "Is he not a dedicated, honorable and trustworthy man?"

"He is." Surana crosses her arms and inhales deeply, defiant.

"Alright." Fergus smiles, his white teeth peeking out from under his lips. "Would he not risk his very life for hers? And has he not done so for her and for you as well? On many occasions might I add."

Annoyed that she's starting to see his point, Thalia sighs. "Yes...but..."

"Then what's the problem Love? What more do you want from the man? He's left the ways of the Templars and the Chantry behind." Fergus blows out the candle on his side of the bed, removes his pants and climbs under the covers. "Everything he knows and values, has been left behind. I should think that's more than enough proof of his character."

"I guess you're right." The elf changes into her night shifts and crawls in beside the large man.

"Of course I am." A sly grin plays across his lips as he places a kiss on the crown of Thalia's head. "You judge too harshly my dear."

"I know...I just want her to have the best and to be happy." Again the little white-haired mage sighs. "I guess...whatever makes her happy, is what's best."

"Ah, now you understand." Chuckling lightly at her sudden realization, Fergus lies his head back on the soft pillow. "Good night love."

Thalia leans her cheek against his firm chest. "Good night."

* * *

Morning, or at least one can assume it is. Curled up on her side, the dark-haired mage smiles, happy for once in her own skin. The air in the room is warm, the linens and bed are comfortable, but there's something missing. Eyes still heavy with exhaustion, Keira stretches her hands searching for the warm body that had been beside her all evening. Finding the mattress beside her to be bare, she unwillingly opens her eyes.

"Cullen?" Her vision gains focus.

The Templar Knight sits at the edge of the small bed, naked, his back to the mage. She can hear him yawn. Now this, she decides, is a view she can learn to get use to. Her eyes linger over all the muscles and scars scattered across his torso. Cullen rubs his hands over his face and stifles a yawn with a closed fist. Remaining under the covers, Amell leans up against the Knight and kisses his upper arm.

Looking down at her, Cullen smiles. "Morning." He runs a hand along her jaw and places his lips against hers briefly.

"Did you sleep well?" She watches as he pulls on his pants, and arches his back, stretching his stiff and tired body.

Letting out a deep breath, he sits back on the bed and begins strapping on his boots. "Fine...considering how little sleep we actually got." He snickers.

"No one said we had to get out of bed yet. Who knows what time it actually is." Keira giggles and lies back down.

The Templar finds his white tunic and pulls it over his head. He picks up his dagger and belt, but then finds himself distracted as his eyes watch Keira, for once shamelessly, as she stretches out on the bedding.

"Come here." She licks her lips and gestures for him to come closer.

His tongue glides over his teeth inside his mouth. The Templar places the knife and the belt on the nearby table and takes a seat on the mattress. The dark-haired mage leans in close and places a kiss on his lips.

"Thank-you...for last night. It was nice." Amell pulls him down as she lies back and continues to deepen the kiss. The Templar's hips begin to instinctively move against hers.

Knowing full well that she's won this battle, Cullen groans as he pulls her sheets aside. "We shouldn't be doing this... again." He smiles broadly.

"Why?" She unlaces the opening of his pants. "Scared someone would object?" She smiles against his lips, and he can feel her teeth.

Cullen chuckles and removes his shirt. "No..."

"Then don't worry. What's one more time?" She pulls down his trousers low enough to access him. "After this...we'll get out of bed and be productive. I promise."

Laughing lightly against the skin of her neck, the Templar Knight doesn't back away when she frees him from the restraints of his clothing. Goose bumps form instantly at the sudden contact of her hand surrounding him. Feeling his skin burn for her, he begins to near her opening.

Sliding inside her once more, looming over her body and feeling the curve of her form against his own as he presses further, almost ends him right there. Taking a moment to lower his pants a bit further, he then pushes in again. From this position, he can see her grip the bed sheets, the heat as it rises to her cheeks and the expressions on her face.

As he continues to rock gently, he kisses her shoulders and grips the blankets tightly. His ears twitch when he hears a noise, so he stops his motions. Cullen looks around the room, the door is closed, there's no window and no one else is in the room. He's too occupied to see a shadow at the bottom of the door.

Returning his attention to the woman below him, Cullen continues his work. The Templar's grip on the bedding tightens as he nears his ending. Amell arches against him, her body stiffening as she bites down on the skin of his shoulder, silencing the screams that threaten to escape her. Hissing with excitement that the sudden pain causes him, Cullen thrusts his hips once more as he groans savagely.

On the opposite side of the door, Thalia shakes her head and rolls her eyes. _You've got to be kidding me._ She'd been secretly hoping that it was a one time thing, maybe even a phase. She's known Keira to do some odd things or people before. _But this? A Templar, in her bed chambers, willingly giving herself to him._ The elf has to admit, that this tops everything. She's walked in on Amell a few times, when she was with man. So, she's no stranger to the noises the other woman can produce.

Finally, hearing their ragged breathing, Thalia takes this as a sign that they are finished and decides to knock on the door, but doesn't open it. "Alright you two...I think that's a good enough work out for now, don't you?" Satisfied that she's probably given the couple a heart attach, the elf walks away with a smug grin on her face.

Shocked, Cullen continues to stare at the door, holding his breath. Amell can't help but laugh at her Templar's sudden hesitation and flushed complexion. "Relax. She's gone. You can breathe again."

Exhaling, the Templar can feel the blood returning to his face. "You'll...uhmm.. probably need to talk with her." He sighs as he slowly climbs back to his feet and starts tying his pants.

Not really understanding what he's so worried about, Keira clambers out of bed and starts gathering her robes. "Yes. It would be helpful to know if they have any new information or if they've heard any news..."

"N-not about that..." Cullen interrupts her train of thought. Clearing his throat, he straps on his belt and adjusts its length. "About...well, us. She may not understand. Maker...she may even be upset with the idea."

Realizing that this thought had never occurred to her before, Amell becomes nervous and starts chewing at her bottom lip. "I...I didn't think of it that way."

Quickly, the mage dresses herself in her clean robes and leggings. While pulling on her knee-high leather boots, she eyes the floor, furious that she'd never taken Thalia feelings in all of this into consideration. Cullen watches her with a curious gaze as she grabs her staff and heads towards the door.

Seeing that the man before her seems to be in some sort of inner battle, Keira halts in her steps and places a hand on his face. "Hey, I have no regrets." Her lips form a loving smile. "It may take her some time to adjust...but she'll come around."

"I-I...I just don't want her to think that I've betrayed your trust...or hers." With his head hanging low, he feels something familiar once more, _shame._

Exhaling a low breath, Keira's hand slides down to his chest. "We don't need to ask for permission, from anyone. You didn't betray any of us." Her hand now clasping his, she squeezes his fingers lightly. "Come on. We have much to do."

* * *

A large map of Ferelden is spread over a stone table. There's food and tea placed where there is open place for it. As all the companions continue eating and discussing current events, Keira Amell slowly rubs at her sore temples. A migraine continues to beat away like an angry war drum in her skull. Noticing Keira's pain, Thalia mixes an herbal tea and offers it to her friend.

"This will help. The new Keeper of the Dalish clan we met, taught me a few new things. Please try it." She displays a sympathetic smile as she offers Keira the warm liquid.

Looking up at the beverage in the elven mage's hands, Keira nods. "Thank-you. If this works, you need to give me the recipe."

"There's still a few loose ends we need to tie." Kate pushes her plate aside, finding food unappealing at the moment. "We need the support of the Crown's soldiers if we are to succeed with any of this."

"As much as I hate to admit it. She's right." Alistair blows at the steam coming out of his mug of tea. "We're going to have to make an appearance at the Landsmeet."

Exhaling deeply, Keira eyes the bastard prince at the opposite end of the table. "You do know that we'll have to either convince Anora to help us...or..."

"Go along with the Arl's plan to have me placed on the throne. I know." Alistair's eyes meet her gaze. "I don't have to like it...but it may be the only way to gain the forces that we need to help us." No longer able to face the truth, Alistair returns his attention to the cup of tea.

"So it's settled." Pressing her hands against the massive table, Keira pushes herself up from her seat. "We're heading for Denerim."

Seeing no objections, Amell begins giving her comrades orders. "Thalia and Wynne, I need you two to make sure we have all the medical provisions we need." Keira hands the elf a bag of coins. Understanding their task, the two circle mages nod and head out to do as they are instructed.

"You three." The mage points to Leliana, Zevran and Ty. "I want you to use your bartering skills to get all the supplies we'll need for a lengthy journey. That includes food, clothing..."

"We understand." Ty catches the small bag that Amell tosses his way. "How long do we have?"

"One hour. When you're done, find Bohdan, tell him of our plan. Make sure that cart is ready for travel when we get there." Ty pockets the cash and then follows the other two rogues out of the room. She knows that she's beginning to sound a bit stoic. She has no time to linger, they must be on their way, and soon.

"Kate and Morrigan, I want the two of you to inventory and list everything that is brought back. If something is missing, or if there's something you think we need..." Keira's eyes drift to the Witch of the Wilds. "I know that this doesn't seem like a grand task...but..."

"I'm not complaining. T'is a sound idea. I will make sure we have everything we need for magical purposes and Katheryn will do the same with weapons and provisions." The witch rolls her golden eyes. "It is mundane...but I guess it must be done."

"Right." Amell turns her attention to Sten, Oghren and Fergus. "Weapons and armor. Think you gentlemen can handle that?"

"Considerate already done." The red-headed dwarf winks as he walks by.

Fergus shakes his head as Sten grunts out his disapproval. Keira watches as the three men leave. The door shuts and she begins relaxing her shoulders. The mage lets out a long breath. She turns and stares at the two men left in the room. Alistair has his chin resting against the armor on his chest, apparently deep in thought. Cullen is looking tired as he slowly blinks in her direction.

"Alright. Alistair..." The Prince lifts his brow to look at her. "No matter what the outcome, no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to. No matter how honorable your intentions are... only you can decide what's best for you." Smiling warmly, she rests her hand on his shoulder. " Not me, not the Arl...you."

Alistair looks to Cullen then back to the mage before him. "I...thank-you." He lets out a shaky breath. "It's nice to know that I'm not just some pawn in someones plot for once."

Squeezing his shoulder, Keira signals for them to begin their journey. "I'll grab the map, we really need to get going."

* * *

Luckily, it had been morning when they had awoken. There had been enough time for the small party to be on their way with plenty of daylight. They were even nearing their planned camp site with more than enough time to spare. With all three of their treaties signed and their inventory fully supplied, Keira can feel the morale of her companions slowly rising.

Taking a minute to herself, she shuts her eyes and lets the crisp mountain air sweep over her skin as she continues to walk down the road. The wind tugs at her loose strands of hair and she can't help but smile. The bright blue sky with only a few clouds, the sounds of the forest and its animals, _intoxicating._ She realizes now, that she's a mage that will never be able to live confined ever again.

The deep roads had taken a toll on her and those who went with her. The lack of natural light, the stagnant air, the heat, the polluted waters and the things that lie hidden in the dark, hungry and waiting. Just then, something else dawns on her. _Lyrium,_ raw, growing, _alive. Cullen._

Keira opens her eyes, searching for her Templar Knight. Clutching her cloak, she shields herself from the brisk cool breeze. Her eyes find the man she's looking for, he's laughing while conversing with Fergus and Oghren. He looks much more at ease today then he has any other day. She can't help but let an amused grin trail across her face, knowing she probably has something do to with that. Sensing her gaze on him, Cullen glances at her from the corner of his eyes. The lines near his eyes deepen as his smile broadens. Oghren makes a remark she can't hear and the men continue laughing while patting the entertaining dwarf on the back.

Her eyes continue to survey the people following her command. Thalia and Kate walk arm in arm as Leliana plays a tune on her lute. Ty and Zevran toss a stick between them as Kate's hound fetches with no signs of exhaustion. Sten seems annoyed as Wynne tries to have some sort of conversation with the giant Qunari. Morrigan and Alistair are trailing behind, for once they seem to not be arguing.

Happy with the current state of things, Keira continues marching forward.

"Stop being so stubborn and take it." Alistair holds out a dark brown cloak covered in wolf fur. "It's freezing...and you're wearing...well..."

Rolling her eyes, Morrigan takes the garment, as if offended. "Fine! But this doesn't mean that my opinion of you changes."

"Yeah...like wise." Alistair rubs his hands together and blows warm air into them. "Look you're obviously freezing. I'm larger, it'll take longer for me to catch a cold."

With the furs settled nicely around her shoulders, the witch sighs. "Don't be a fool, Alistair. You know full well you'd freeze to death first." She grins menacingly.

"You're welcome. And for future reference...just say thank-you next time someone does you a favor..." His smile fades. There's something in the woods, something feels off.

"Darkspawn?" Morrigan whispers while reaching for her staff.

Ears on full alert, the prince shakes his head slowly. "No." Raising his shield with one hand, he slowly backs away while pushing Morrigan behind him with his free hand. His eyes never leaves the darkened area of the forest.

"To arms!" Keira shouts after noticing Alistair's sudden defensive tactics.

The air is silent. Kate's hound sniffs at the air and growls. Ty and Leliana have the strings of their bows pulled back, patiently waiting for their enemy. Keira glances at Fergus who signals for Zevran to scout on ahead. Just as she brings her attention back to the woods, a group of soldiers come darting from all areas of the darkness.

Yelling their war cries, the men charge at full speed. Noticing something familiar about them, Keira shares a worried look with Alistair. _Loghain's men._ Just as the first wave makes contact with Fergus and Cullen, Amell notices a few mages standing in the far field.

 _Great. Blood mages._ She knows they need to be dealt with quick. "Ty, Leliana, the mages!" Keira points to the enemy mages, she wants the rogues to focus their strikes there. Hoping that the onslaught of arrows is enough to distract these blood mages, Amell begins conjuring her lighting storm. As her spell grows, she notices that her plan has worked. The two mages are quickly dealt with, electricity flows through their bodies before they can even cast one counter spell.

Quickly her eyes scan the area. The last of the soldiers near Fergus and Cullen are being dealt with. Wynne, Thalia and Kate are doing damage control, while Ty and Leliana are using their arrows to execute anyone who tries to escape. Keira glances back and spots Alistair, still protecting Morrigan while she casts spells over his shoulder. Just as he lifts his shield to block an oncoming blow, a mercenary stabs him in the lower rib cage with a dagger.

Angered, Alistair turns swiftly and swings his shield into his attackers face. Lashing out with his right arm, he stabs the man in the throat with his sword. The prince pulls the blade from the dying man just in time to catch his other attacker in the face with his elbow. Staggering to the side, he falls down to one knee. With her strength regained, Morrigan strikes their opponent down with a spell that causes the man's head to swell then explode.

"You idiot! Why were you not paying better attention." The Witch rushes to Alistair's side.

Still on bended knee, he plunges his sword into the ground and leans on the hilt for better support. Clutching his wounded side with his free hand, he winces in pain. "Again...you're welcome." He grins.

"Let me take a look." _Is that compassion, coming from her own mouth?_

Grasping his wrist she slowly pulls his hand away. Her eyes widen at the amount of blood there is on his trembling fingers. _This is not good._ The dagger is still logged in his ribs. She gasps at the amount of blood pooling down by his knee.

"Amell!" Panic fills her throat as she calls for one of her fellow mages. "Keira!"

The world is starting to spin, Alistair's eyes are suddenly heavy. "Shit..." He can feel himself fall back and expects to feel his skull hit the ground. To his surprise, Morrigan catches him and attempts to keep him sitting up.

"Don't you dare die you idiot!" She screams at him, hoping to keep him alert.

Coughing, a lazy grin pulls at the corners of his lips. "Why? Afraid of knowing someone died while protecting you?"

"Don't be absurd. You did nothing of the sort. T'was I who was defending you." Morrigan can feel a stinging in her chest, _is this guilt?_

"Well...you suck at it." He coughs once more, this time with blood.

Small hands are pulling at his armor, and tugging at his tunic. "That needs to come out. Lets lie him down. Where's Thalia?"

"She's coming." Cullen kneels down beside Alistair and tosses his gauntlets aside. "I can pull it out...but once I do..."

"I know, he's going to need healing immediately or he'll bleed to death." Keira bites at her lip, she's not ready for this kind of healing yet. "Where's Thalia?!"

"Do it now. The blade is poisoned...if we linger any longer he'll die." Morrigan grabs a bottle from her bag. "I'll pour this as soon as it's out."

Nodding, Keira looks to Cullen. "On three. One...two..."

Without waiting for the last number, Cullen pulls the knife out quickly. Alistair squeezes the shoulders of both mages, leaving a bloodied hand print on the witch's furs. With that over with, Morrigan dumps the liquid from the bottle over the open gash. Keira then cover the wound with her hands and shuts her eyes.

_Concentrate._

She wills her magics to mend his muscle and push out the toxins.

_Concentrate._

She can feel the blood vessels heal and his skin tissues slowly begin to knit.

Mana and energy spent, Amell's eyes roll to the back of her head and she falls backwards. Finally arriving, Thalia quickly takes over the larger task of repairing his organs.

"Keira!" Cullen is at her side, carefully lifting her head.

Frantically she pulls at his cloak. "Is he alive?"

"He's...unconscious. They are still working on him." His throat is dry. The thought of loosing someone who's become a close comrade is alarming.

There's coughing, and then the sound of Alistair gasping as he tries to pull oxygen into his lungs. With long deep inhales, he continues to cough. As he tries to sit up, Morrigan pushes back on his bulk.

"We're not done here. Surana needs to mend your insides. Lie down." The wild witch looks over toward the Templar Knight, her eyes beaming with optimism.

Cullen shuts his eye lids and smiles. "He's alive." He informs the dark-haired mage.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One : Things Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a really short chapter. Way shorter then what I usually write. At the time that I wrote this, I'd been MIA for the past few months. I was ill and then our family was expecting another child. So that had made me feel a bit ill as well. I'm hoping my next few chapters won't take as long to post. Until next time, I hope you enjoy this little up date. And as always, thank-you all for the lovely comments and support!
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer : Waiting on DAI...still none of this is mine...

**Chapter Twenty-One : Things Lost**

The breeze is still crisp, the smell of morning dew still lingers in the air. Alistair can hear the crackling of a fire somewhere off in the distance. Too sleepy to move, he remains still. Muffled voices just outside his tent remind him that they are once more on the road. Immediately, the absence of a proper and comfortable bed is the first thing he misses most. As a wave of pain starts to pool in his lower abdomen, he begins to open his eyes. Gritting his teeth together, he tries to carefully push himself up from his bedroll.

"Your body has not yet finished healing." Morrigan informs as she places a light hand on his shoulder, easing him to lie back down. "We were not able to mend everything. The poison on that dagger was strong."

"How long...have I been out?" Alistair tries to adjust his posture, but he just can't seem to get comfortable. Noticing that he's a bit chillier then usual, he lifts the blankets. To his utter embarrassment, he discovers something rather discomforting. "And where's my armor? And for the love of Andraste...where's my clothes?"

Rolling her golden eyes, annoyed by his bashfulness, Morrigan holds back a snip remark. For now. "To answer your first question. Two and a half days. Your armor and clothing are being repaired and cleaned. With the amount of blood you lost, I'm surprised that you're still able to turn such lovely shades of red."

"Two and a half days..." Alistair repeats this information, stunned. "We need to get moving...we've wasted a lot of time." Again, he tries to prop himself up on his elbows.

"T'was unavoidable." This time the Witch means business and forces him back with less caution. "There have been a few unexpected turn of events. Amell will speak with you of this later, once you've had something to eat and are fully clothed."

"Right." Raising a curious brow, Alistair glances in her direction. "Why are you here?"

"I...I'm just making sure you do not cause yourself further injury. You fool." Morrigan picks up the book she'd been reading and proceeds with ignoring the bastard prince.

"Uh huh...So this is your way of saying 'thank-you Alistair for saving my skin.' " He fails horribly at mocking her voice and tone.

Just as she's about to scold him for impersonating her, Alistiar begins to have a small coughing fit. Hissing in pain, he holds his injured side. Morrigan's eyes land on the bloodied hand print that stains the fur cloak he had lent her. Her features soften once more. Hoping to remove the blood, she had tired to wash the cloak unsuccessfully in the river "Yes. Thank-you." She continues reading. "But do not mistake this as anything more then casual gratitude."

"You're welcome." He smiles and shuts his eye lids. "I'll just rest a for a little bit then I'll get up, get dressed and eat. We really need to get moving again."

* * *

The dry leaves crunch under the weight of their footsteps as they continue their journey. As the party continues to head south, it somehow feels as if they are back tracking, even in some small way, wasting valuable time and effort. Keira feels a bit guilty thinking this way, but she can't help it. In part, it's true. Besides the documents and the sword that Elric had informed them of, there really wasn't any real reason to be going back. It just seems a little reckless to be endangering all of their lives to be chasing after pieces of parchment and a dead Kings sword.

However, as she catches a glimpse of Alistair, she notices his posture. Shoulders low, his hands curled around the straps of his pack, he continues following the group. His expression blank, he continues to march on. Out of everyone here, he's the lease happy about heading back. But he's still moving forward.

To the place where his mentor and savior had been killed. To the place where his brother and his King had been betrayed and left to his death. To the place where everything had went wrong and ended for him.

Reexamining everything they've done, Keira decides that this is probably something he needs. A way to finally lay his demons to rest.

Tired, Amell pulls out her map and assesses their current progress. They are not as close to Ostagar as she would like. Sighing, knowing she has little options left, Keira quickly makes her way over to Alistair. "Do you think we'd be welcome to rest at Redcliff castle even with The Arl in Denerim?" This is more of a hidden question. An 'are you alright with going to Redcliff' and he knows it.

"Uhm...I'm sure we'd be more then welcomed." Chewing at his inner cheek in a bit of a daze Alistair studies the ground as he kicks at the dirt.

The mage grips his shoulder gently. "Alright, we'll head there. We'll continue traveling as soon as day breaks."

* * *

Good thing they had arrived a few hours before supper. The dinning hall is filled with lit candles, and the sounds of chatter. The food is warm and full of flavor, the ale is smooth and the Arl's staff has been very inviting. Everyone's spirits seem to be a bit higher, well everyone's accept Alistair's. Keira frowns at this thought and tries not to dwell on it. Her fingers dance quickly through the pages of yet another ancient book.

"Still reading?" Thalia takes a seat across the table. "You're aloud to have a break every now and then you know. And not just when you have migraines, because I know that's what you were going to say." She winks at the other mage.

"But this helps me relax." Keira's eyes never leave her book.

Gently Thalia reaches over the table, takes the book from her friend and shuts it. She runs a delicate finger over the spine and then places it on the table. "When's the last time we just got to sit with each other and talk?"

"Honestly, I can't remember." Suddenly, Amell feels a bit ashamed about this. Her best friend sits directly across from her, but yet it feels like ages since they've seen each other or even just talked. "How can that be?"

Thalia shrugs her shoulders. "We've been apart quite a bit in the past few months." Her small hand smooths out the tattered cover of the book. "We've been busy."

So much is said in this moment. No actual words were used to describe it, but they both feel it. They're just different from the women they were back at the Tower. "Yeah. Darkspawn and all..."

Thalia's eyes continue to study the book beneath her palm. "How long?"

The other mage understands this question. "You mean..." _Me and Cullen_ , she wants to say out loud. She doesn't need to, Thalia nods, acknowledging her train of thought. Keira lets out a breath of air and pushes stray strands of hair behind her ears. "Since the night you arrived in Orzammar. If that's what you're asking."

"I see." The elven mage glances down the long dinner table to see that everyone is too preoccupied to hear their conversation.

"And you?" Keira thrusts her chin in Fergus's direction.

Surana smirks. "Since we met with the Dalish." She pushes the book aside and folds her arms on the table. "Guess we've both been preoccupied." The elf snorts.

"I guess." The dark-haired mage follows suit and leans her arms on the table. "So why Fergus?"

"Why Cullen?"

"Ha. Fair enough." Amell traces the wood grain in the table with her finger. "But, _you_ know why."

Thalia can't help but grimace. "He's a Templar, Keira."

"Was." Amell corrects. "And that really doesn't bother me. It's actually quite handy."

The elf contemplates this and a disturbing memory replays in her mind. When her friend had been out control, her voice barely recognizable and her behavior had been terrifying. Alistair had to react, to intervene. "I guess...but Alistair was a Templar."

"And?" Keira pushes a frustrated hand through her hair and regards her friend. "This has nothing to do with Cullen being a Templar. Does it? What do you have against him?"

"Nothing." Thalia defends and sits up straight and smiles. "It's just, I guess some part of me always wanted you to live happily ever after, with a prince." She chuckles at this now ridiculous and romantic thought. "You know, like in those books we use to read."

Laughing silently, Keira can't help but be amused. "That's sweet...really." The mage sighs. "But it could never happen and you know it."

"Sure it could." The elf shoots the male Cousland a quick glance. "He wants to get married. At first... I thought he was crazy. But the more I thought about it."

Keira licks her lips quickly. "Marriage. And...you're...wow."

"I wanted you to know, that I've accepted. And when all of this is over, I'm heading back to Highever with him. To help rebuild and start a new life." Thalia reaches over the table and grips her friend's hands in her own. "I'm happy. But you're still a big part of my life and..."

Content and overjoyed, are the first two words that come to mind when Keira studies her friends face. "I'm happy, for the both of you. He's a good man. But you know it won't be easy, right?"

"I know." Surana smiles thinly. "I've gone over it a hundred times if not more in my head. It's the most absurd thing I've ever thought of doing. But it just feels...right."

Keira shakes her head and leans back, her eyes find her silly Templar, laughing and drinking with Ty. "I know."

Thalia follows her friends gaze. "You really do love him." Keira silently nods. There's a loud roar and the men at the far end of the table begin laughing. "I understand. It's just, he's more of a brother figure to me."

The dark-haired mage laughs. "And I was just starting to forgive you."

"For what?" Thalia raises her brow.

"For walking in on me and Cullen. You thought I wouldn't have figured that out?" Keira can't help but bust out laughing at the sight of her friends ghostly complexion.

The night continues with little event. The ale passes around the table, more then a few times. Kate is one of the first to head to bed. Soon after, most of their little group has either turned in for the night, or continues to try and keep up with Oghren's drinking game. Alistair sits by the fire place, starring into his empty mug. This is the first time since Duncan's death that Keira has seen him so depressed. Even then, he wasn't as detached as he is now. He's silent and always seems to be by himself somewhere.

"I'm worried about him." Keira places a hand on Cullen's forearm as she looks over at Alistair. "Could you..."

"Talk to him?" He fills up his mug and grabs an extra one for his fellow Templar. "You look tired. Why don't you head to bed."

"Thank-you." She places a kiss on his temple before she leaves the dinning hall.

Taking in a long heavy breath, Alistair is just about to place his mug on the floor when Cullen hands him another. "You look like you need another."

A bit startled, he accepts the ale and leans back against the high back of the chair. "Thanks." Alistair brings the glass to his lips and takes a generous drink.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You know...head back?" Cullen clears his throat, hoping he's not making the situation worse. Discreetly, he studies the other mans body language and demeanor .

"I...it's not that." The prince rakes a shaky hand through his hair. "I think Eamon's right. That I should fight, for the Throne." Alistair snorts, he can't believe the words leaving his own mouth. "I think in some small manner, I'd be doing both Kailan and Duncan justice if I fought for the Crown. It might even help out the Wardens in the end. Just because I'd be King, doesn't mean I'd stop being a Warden."

He notices that this entire time, Cullen has actually been listening to him. Not just hearing his words, but focusing on what he's actually saying. "I think you're right." The Templar Knight takes a drink of his ale. "You know that no matter what you decide, you'll have all of our support."

"I-I...thank-you." His attention returns to the liquor in his glass. His mouth unable to word how much he appreciates the sentiment. Well that and it wouldn't be very manly of him to say anything more.

Cullen leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He swirls his drink gently and studies the bubbles as they form a small foam. "If you don't want to take up the mantel of King...you don't have to."

Alistair laughs, covering his mouth with a fist. "I know." He hiccups a frothy exhale of air. "But I think it's the right thing to do. Besides, I really do think there's a potential to help the Wardens. Assuming I live through any of this." He takes the last of his ale in one large mouth full. "Plus, with all the time I've put in on the field as a Grey Warden, I'm sure that will come in handy later on."

"Don't forget your Templar training. That's bound to be of good use." Cullen snickers and rubs a tired hand over his brow.

Looking serious, the prince wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He leans closer and brings his voice down low, making sure they are the only two that can hear this conversation. "How are you doing?" He waits for the other Templar to answer. With no response, he presses further. "I've noticed your hands...shaking. Not all the time...but here and there."

Cullen clears his throat and deposits his mug onto the floor. "It...started in the deep roads. I was fine...for the first few days." He rubs his hands together, stretches his back and sighs. "All that raw, exposed Lyrium. I-I guess it was just...too much." The Templar rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable with where this conversation has lead.

"Have you talked with Keira about this?" Alistair sees the Knight shake his head.

"I'm sure she's noticed. We've just been so busy...with everything." Cullen looks over his shoulder to the doorway where the mage had existed not long ago. He brings his attention back to Alistair. "I'm not going to lie. It feels a bit strange...talking to you about this." He rubs his palms over his knees, embarrassed and at a bit of lost as what to do next.

The prince smiles, grips his friend by the shoulder and laughs. "It's quite alright big guy. Better man won and all that. My manly feelings will heal in do time. And as for your...Lyrium issues." The last part he says almost in a whisper. "I would speak with Amell. I'm sure with the amount of reading she's been doing lately...she's probably the one person that knows the most about the subject."


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two : To What End?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well kind of a cute smutty little chapter. Felt bad for leaving the last chapter really short. So I've chopped the beginning of my next chapter off. I'll just make the next one a little longer. This one is short as well, but has a purpose. Again my friends, read and enjoy. Cheers!
> 
> Disclaimer : Bioware owned, accept Keira and Thalia, mine.

**Chapter Twenty-Two : To What End?**

The former Templar offers Alistair a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and heads for the staircase. No longer sober, he clumsily reaches the first step and then he hears someone gently call out to him. Turning his attention to a familiar smiling old woman, Cullen returns the smile. "Good evening Enchantress Wynne. I was just heading to bed...is there something you needed of me?" He rests a firm hand against the stone wall, attempting to regain his balance.

"Cullen...always so polite." The old mage continues her smile. "I just need a word with you and then I hope to speak with Thalia."

Confused at what the enchantress could possibly want at this hour, Cullen raises a brow. Not able to ever refuse the old woman a moment of his time, Cullen motions for her to sit with him on a near by bench.

"Now, about you and Amell..."

* * *

It's late and she should be resting. For some reason, she just can't sleep. "Maker I hope he's not still drinking. He's not going to feel so great in the morning." The need to keep herself occupied grows with every second that they spend here. Frustrated she retrieves her journal and heads back to her bed. Just as she's about to begin a new entry, she hears someone enter.

"Cullen? How was your talk with Alistair?" Keira starts writing and draws a quick sketch of the brood mother, and finds that she has to put her book down.

"Oh...uhm it seemed to help." Cullen takes a seat on one of the large sofas.

The mage gets out of bed to place her journal into her back pack and notices his odd behavior.

"Still studying and taking notes?" Cullen points out. "W-well, of course you are... why wouldn't you be..."

Keira exhales deeply and crosses her arms. "What's wrong?" She knows this man too well, he trails off and stutters more when he's nervous or trying to talk about something uncomfortable.

"I...I was just coming to bed." He admits as he rubs the back of his neck, clearly feeling out-of-place. "When Wynne approached me...she uh...we had a talk."

The little mage rolls her eyes annoyed and takes a seat on a chair near by. "What did she lecture you about now?"

"Us...well couples in general." The Templar chuckles. "How we should end what we have now...before one us...dies...or before we hurt one another." Cullen bites at his bottom lip and pops the joints of his fingers, feeling put on the spot.

Amell can't help but laugh as well. "Yeah. She would say something like that. Listen, she knows you're new to being involved with someone and she's just concerned."

Keira sits down beside her distraught Templar. "Maybe...maybe she's right." He says sincerely. "I mean... With all that's been tossed at us. W-what if...one of us dies...our duty as Wardens is going to have to come first. What if our judgement or our actions become clouded because we're too busy worrying about the other?"

"You're telling me that wouldn't happened anyways? Regardless? If we were to end this right now, you're telling me you wouldn't worry about me as much? You think I'd just stop carrying for you? Just like that?" Keira snaps her fingers together. "You can't just turn off the way you feel for someone just like that." She pushes her hair back and smiles. Her eyes meet his and he's forced to look away.

Clearing his throat, he rubs his hands on his thighs. He's at a lost at what he should do or say. He's scared. "I-I think she may be right...We should end this before we become too involved. I can't stand the thought of loosing you...but I also couldn't live with myself if you got killed because my actions were delayed." He begins to move, to leave. "I...I should go."

"Cullen..." Tiny fingers hold onto his forearm.

Sighing, he turns and faces the little mage. "Hmm?"

"You know I care for you. I can't change that." Her eyes widen, searching his features for any signs, of what, she doesn't know.

Not really knowing how to answer or what to do, the Templar hangs his head. "My Lady...I should..." His shoulders move as he takes in a deep breath.

"What?" Keira cups the sides of his face with her hands and forces him to look at her. "Go? Why? Because some old lonely woman told you that being in a relationship is a bad idea?"

"I-it's for the best...this...us. It can't end well." He's ashamed of what he's doing. How he feels like he's betraying both hers and his own heart. Cullen's hands gently surround her wrists. He lowers her hands to her lap, chews the inside of his cheek, and stands before he looses his willpower. Puffing out a breath of air, he begins to head for the door way.

 _Don't let him leave. Don't let that man walk out that door._ Chasing after him, the mage grabs hold of his arm and forces him to turn around. "You can't know that." _Damn that old woman for not minding her own business._

He knows if she'd just stayed where she'd been sitting he would have had the courage to walk away. But she just had to go after him, she couldn't just drop it. Seeing her eyes pleading the way that they are, he tries to avoid her gaze by staring at his feet. Shame, guilt, his heart breaking, he swallows the lump back down in his throat.

Ducking down to meet his eyes, Keira places her forehead against his own. The tip of her nose rubs against his cheek sending goose bumps over his skin. Cullen's eyes land on her hair that's cascading down over her shoulder and collar-bone. As he pushes the hair back, his thumb caresses the length of her neck. A breath escapes her lips as his thumb trails up to her jaw line and behind her ear.

No longer controlling his own motions, Cullen begins to tilt towards the mages face. Quickly rising to the tip of her toes, she pulls his face to her own and kisses his lips. His body presses forward and she accepts. Surrounding her frame with his arms, Cullen lifts her to meet his height. Before he can pull back, their lips lock again and his breathing speeds up. The need for him is coming from Amell in waves and this urges him to continue.

"Don't go." The mage begs as she deepens their kiss. "Don't leave me to face all of this alone." A tear rolls down her cheek. "I'm stronger with you..."

Gently, he places Amell back on her feet. Dragging his hands along her rib cage and back, he forces a small satisfied moan to escape her lips. Her thumbs caress his cheeks and jaw as their tongues meet time after time. The Knight locks the door behind him, as Keira carefully takes a few steps back. Leaning back into the bed, she guides the Templar as he follows, their kiss never breaking. Cullen is no fool, he knows exactly what she's doing, but he's unable to turn and walk away.

The Templar's fists grip the bedding as he places himself above the mage. Keira drags her bare foot along his left thigh and digs her nails into the material across his back. Her hands are under his tunic, feeling his hardened body and scars. Their kiss breaks to allow the mage to remove his shirt. Her hunger for him grows as she kisses his neck and collar-bone. Returning to his mouth, she decides to lie back on the bed, bringing her Templar with her.

His composure seemingly gone, he drags a hand the length of her thigh, his thumb caresses her soft skin. The mage breathes heavily into his mouth. "I need you. Always have."

The Templar nods and kisses her once more. His hips grind with hers and a raspy groan forms in his throat. He unties the side of her night shift, and Keira squirms her way out. As her robe hits the floor, Cullen is over her once more, kissing her neck and shoulder, one hand untying his pants while the other supports his own weight. The mage helps push the hem down and she grips him with her palm and fingers. His body shutters above her.

"Keira..." His grip on the sheets tighten. His body pleased, the Templar can feel his eyes slowly roll backwards. "Keira...we should stop." His chest is heaving out rapid heavy breaths as he grabs at her wrist. He's beginning to regain his determination. _What if Wynne is right? What if he does something to hurt her? Or worse...get her killed?_

"Do you want me to?" An earnest question.

"N-no." He admits ashamed that his feelings for her know no bounds.

"Then why?" Amell's hand slips from his grip and glide back inside his trousers once more. Lightly, she drags her palm along his length repeatedly. "Why should we not be happy in the little amount of time that we're granted?"

His eyes shut, Cullen tries to control the beating of his heart. Mouth slightly agape, he can feel heat rising to his face. "I...I don't know anymore. Nothing makes sense anymore."

"If we're to die tomorrow. I'd rather my time end, knowing I had you. Had a chance of being with you." Her motions quicken. "A chance to love and be loved."

Opening his eyes, Cullen stares back at the woman beneath him. "You... you love me?" Stunned but humbled. He sees her nod. Crashing his lips with hers, he grips her hair.

"I love you." He whispers against her mouth.

They both exhale deeply. Moaning, he pushes her tongue back with his own. Amell glides her hand over him once again and he shutters. His arms tremble as he tries to remove his trousers. Again, she moves her hand and wrist. Quickly, Cullen thrusts off his pants, pulls her hips down closer to his own and adjusts his weight. Keira's hips tilt up towards him and he groans into her shoulder. The mage trails a finger along his chest and then continues their deep kiss. The Templar breaks away to study her face. Amell drags a thumb over his lips then down the length of his jaw.

Placing himself near her entrance, he watches as her head tilts back, waiting for him to continue. Kissing her neck as he moves up, he pushes forward. The woman beneath him shivers and hisses with pleasure. The mage grips at his shoulders and begins to nip at his bottom lip. "Again."

Cullen obeys and pushes forward, then pulls back. Once more, his mage groans with pleasure. "Again."

Heat begins to rise to his cheeks, and he now knows that soon he'll reach his limit. Amell grips his back and upper arms, as sweat trails down his skin. "I don't think...I'll be able to stop."

"Good..." Her moaning and panting becomes louder. "Don't want you to..."

With every noise that comes out of her, Cullen finds that he's fueled to continue. His movements are carnal and fast. Keira can feel how much he wants this. How much his body needs this. The Templar Knight, grunts wildly into her hair as he leans on his forearm. Although his thrusts are quite hard, she can't help but enjoy every moment of it. The fingers of his free hand dig into her hip, sweat continues to roll off their bodies, her nails dig into his shoulder blades.

"Cullen..." He can feel a familiar sensation building in his abdomen and chest.

The little mage trails her lip and tongue along his jaw. Again, his body reacts and he continues increasing his pace. Amell twists and arches beneath him, her breasts pushing up against his bare chest. One hand digs into his skin, the other grips at the sheets. Her body pulses and closes tightly around him. The moaning of his name that escapes her lips, causes him to thrust once more, clench his jaw and push his hips as far as they can go. His tension relieved, his arms collapse. Resting his face in the crook of her neck, he breathes heavily.

"I love you. And I'm sorry...I won't let thoughts like that worry me again." He pants as he admits openly, and he kisses her forehead. His muscles quivering with satisfaction, he leans his weight to one side.

"I love you too." Keira combs her fingers through his hair as he stares back at her, his eyes warm and carrying.

The couple settles in their bed, clumsily, he rests his head on her abdomen and collapses from fatigue.

"Sleep well." The mage smiles while stroking his hair. His body humming and twitching against her skin.

* * *

Everyone is packed and ready for another long journey. Another journey they'll make on foot. No hot baths or warm beds are waiting for them where they are headed. Keira does her best to avoid Wynne. She notices that Thalia seems to be doing the same. Making a mental note of this, she decides she'll speak with her elven friend about this later. The other things she's noticed, is the look of disappointment Wynne has when she glances her way. Satisfied by this reaction, Keira continues about her business.

_That's right you old bitty, I'm keeping my man. You better stay out of it._

Alistair says his thanks to the Redcliffe castle staff, double checks that Bohdan has all of their supplies and catches up with is fellow former Templar. "You look like you're in a good mood this morning? Did you talk to Keira about...you know?"

"Oh...uhmm. No. I forgot..." Cullen's cheeks immediately begin to blush.

Laughing, the bastard prince pats his friend on the back. "I see...I guess that's a good reason." Clearing his throat, Alistair tries to sound a bit more serious. "But seriously big guy, you really need to speak with her about it."

Sighing, Cullen rolls his shoulders. "I know...it's just." Quickly he glances over his shoulder to Bohdan's cart to see Wynne sitting carelessly in the back. "I was on my way to talk with her about it...but Wynne pulled me aside."

"Alright?" Alistair is trying to figure out what this has to do with anything.

"Anyways..." Cullen adjusts his shield on his back. "She was trying to make her case about how a relationship could cloud one's judgement. In decision-making. Wether it be within the ranks, during the battle...and it got me thinking." The Templar shakes his head, disgusted at the memory of his earlier actions. "What if...what if Amell is too worried about me during a fight? What if she's so concentrated on what I'm doing that..."

"She gets herself killed." Alistair finishes. "I see. It makes sense...but you know regardless, now, she'd still think the same way. And so would you. I'm sure you've always been more concerned for her safety, then your own."

Cullen nods. "Yes." The Templar admits shyly.

"Do you regret...you know, starting a relationship?" Alistair lifts a curious brow.

"What? No. I wouldn't change anything. I'd rather my last moments happen knowing I mattered to her. Knowing that for a span of time, no matter how short...that we were happy."

The prince pats his friend on the back once more. "You know...you're kind of a softy. When you're not so moody."

The Templar Knight rolls his eyes. "I'm not moody. I'm...stoic. There's a difference."

"Right..." Alistair snickers. "Stoic. You go ahead and believe that." Both men laugh.


	23. Chapter 23 : Things Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : So I have a few other chapters written. They're just not where I want them to be and I'm not putting out chapters that I don't feel like they, well, feel right. Until then, I'll just have to put out new chapters whenever they match up with the plot I have for this story. Please Remember to leave a comment if you enjoy this story!
> 
> Disclaimer : Booo I don't own anything but a few characters and my ideas. Enjoy!

**Chapter 23 : Things Found ******

"She wants us to what?" Alistair barks back at the dark-haired mage. Running his hand over his face, the prince shakes his head in disbelief. "And...you're actually thinking of going through with it?" The mage before him remains silent. "Right, of course you are. Have you gone mad?" Alistair turns his attention to the large fire, frustrated he folds his arms across his chest and tries to calm himself.

Keira remains still, she looks over the small group of companions. "As I've already explained, Morrigan has discovered a ritual in her mothers Grimoire. If we don't deal with Flemeth, then there's a chance that she'll attempt to possess Morrigan and take over her body." Everyone that has gathered seems to be deep in thought, contemplating what this could mean.

"So there's no guarantee that she'll even attempt to do this." Thalia states as she rises from her seat. "All we know, is that Flemeth has had many daughters and that she has lived a very, very long life. There's no guarantee that she'll actually come after Morrigan."

"No. However, think of everything that's happened up until now. She saved us, why? Then sent her daughter away with us so that she'd be safe. It can't all just be a coincidence." The dark-haired mage tries to reason. Sparing a quick glance over her shoulder to Morrigan's small lean-to, she sighs. "The threat of being possessed, by your own mother, knowing that your birth was nothing more then a tool to lengthen someone else life. I can't imagine how she must feel. Thalia, you and I both understand the constant fear of being possessed by an abomination."

"I do." The elven mage wraps her cloak around her frame tighter. "But I'm sorry, I can't agree to this because of some book and some gut feeling. What if Morrigan has her own agenda for wanting the old woman dead. What if she's not telling us everything. That crazy old woman you want to kill, saved two people I care for." Her eyes dart back and forth between Keira and Cullen. "I just...I can't. You'd be dead had she not shown up. I can't."

Inhaling deeply, Alistair focuses back on the group. "Then it's decided. We can't delay any longer. There will be two groups. One will come with me, to Ostagar, the other will go with Keira and deal with Flemeth." He doesn't agree with Keira, but she's always been there for him and stood up for everyone in this little motley crew of theirs. He has to trust that she knows what she's doing. He has to have faith that her judgement isn't clouded.

"The choice is yours." His eyes scan the faces before him. "There is no wrong or right choice here. In the morning I head for Ostagar, those who wish to may join me." The prince glances over to the dark-haired mage. "When you are done with..." He clears his throat. "Head over towards Ostagar, meet us there. We will either be finished or need your assistance."

Amell nods agreeing.

"Alright. I suggest that everyone take it easy tonight, eat, clean up and rest. The journey isn't a long one, but I'm sure it won't be any easy one." Alistair grabs a small bag of liquor and heads for the river bank. Sometime alone to think is just what he needs.

* * *

Sitting on the rivers edge, Alistair drinks whatever wine and ale he'd brought along for company, quiet company. Which is quite fine with him. Tossing a pebble into the water he exhales. He doesn't approve of Keira's decision, but that doesn't mean she's not right either. Killing someone should never be the answer, but sometimes...

Contemplating this, he reflects on himself. Should Loghain appear in front of him at this very moment, could he control himself? Could he stop himself from thrusting a dagger into that man's abdomen, enjoying the moment where he sees the life drain from the other mans eyes? Would Kate or Fergus throw down their weapons should they come face to face with Howe, the man that murdered their family?

Then his thoughts drift to Amell. _How does she do it? How does she make these decisions?_ When they'd first met, a group of men tried to rape her in their very own camp ground. Somehow, she was able to convince Cullen not to kill the man that had been within his grasp. _Why?_ When they found Jowan in the dungeons, Cullen had informed the blood mage of the torture that his friend had endured because of his selfish actions. The Templar had severely beaten his fellow knight for this behavior, but nothing more. _Why?_

Alistair takes another long drink and tosses another pebble into the river. These thoughts continue to swim in his brain. _Why? Why was it not alright to rid the world of those people, but Flemeth is an acception? Loghain and Howe. Acceptions. Why? What makes it's alright to rid the world of one person but not the other?_

"Deep in thought?" Kate and her hound make their way beside the prince. "Mind if I join you?"

Startled, Alistair adjusts his posture and nods. "No. Go ahead." He offers her a bottle of wine and she accepts it.

"So what's bothering you? The thing with Morrigan's mother?" The woman beside him takes a long drink from the bottle then studies it's contents.

"Oh...uhm no. I'm just, you know, reflecting on everything." He offers a gentle smile and sighs. "I understand why Keira wants Flemeth to be dealt with. Partially because of how badly I want to end Lohgain's life."

Kate nods. Scratching her hounds belly, she attempts to smile. "Yeah. I think I get it too. I still plan on avenging my family." Again, she takes another drink. "I think Keira just wants to help Morrigan. Both her and Thalia...this has been the closest thing to family that they've ever had. And when your family is threatened..."

"Yeah..." Alistair takes out another ale and begins to down it's liquid. "Guess most of us are just a bit wound up from everything as well. We don't exactly have it easy." He chuckles and then notices Kate staring back at him. "What?"

Within a hearts beat, her lips are pressed against his own. "Whoa..." Gently he presses on her shoulders, trying to put a bit of space between them. "Kate...what are you doing?"

Smirking, she brushes his hands aside and leans in closer. "Helping you wind down. Relax." She leans forward, attempting to resume the kiss, her bottle of wine finished and forgotten.

The prince attempts to back away unsuccessfully. His hands slip in the moist grass and he lands flat on his back. "Ow. I...we...uhm..." He clears his throat. Just as he's about to push himself up on his elbows, Kate presses down on his chest with her hand and straddles his hips.

"Is it because of your feelings for her? For Keira?" Grinning Kate leans in a little closer. "Or is it something to do with me?" Slowly, she begins kissing and nipping the length of his neck.

Shocked a little by her boldness, Alistair's eyes widen. "I...no. You're beautiful and ...any man would be lucky to..." Shivers travel down his spine as her lips glide to the side of his neck then the area around his jawline and ear. "It's just I've never...and well I do have feelings...for her, that is. Does that make sense? Maker I sound like a fool right about now."

"You're doing fine." The rogue begins untying the front of his shirt and kisses her way across his collar bone and chest.

"Kate..." Alistair grips her arms and calmly begins to sit. "Stop this." He bids just above a whisper. "Have you had too much to drink? What's gotten into you?" He has to admit, his body is in no way protesting against her actions, but his conscious and heart on the other hand are telling him this is wrong.

Lifting her brow, she studies him. Confused she shakes her head. "Just relaxing and having a bit of fun. Have you never spent the night with someone, just because?" A man this attractive, she can't believe he hasn't had his fill of nights filled with lust and sweat.

Trying to avoid her gaze, Alistair again attempts to stand. "I...well growing up in a Chantry there wasn't exactly any opportunities...that's not to say that I never wanted to..."

Finally understanding his hesitation, Kate giggles lightly at his awkwardness.

"Hey!" Offended that she finds this funny, the prince can feel heat rising from his neck to his face. "I'm glad you find this amusing...but I don't think that the fact that I don't just hop into anyone's bed is all that..."

"Calm yourself." She places a finger over his lips. "I happen to find you endearing. I'm only laughing at this situation. Not you." She places a soft kiss on his lips.

"Oh." Alistair pulls back. "So have you ever...just because?"

Smiling softly, she places yet another kiss on his lips. "Yes. It doesn't have to mean anything you know. Two people can come together for fun, comfort...to feel, you know, not so alone. Does that make sense?"

"I'd like to think that it does mean something. I guess I'm just old fashioned that way." He exhales heavily and again is gently pushing her away. "I just...this feels wrong."

"Probably because you've never done anything like this before, but trust me it's alright." She runs her hands up the length of his arms to his shoulders. "Everyone does something or someone to keep their minds occupied. Considering our line of work, it's a good idea. Thalia and Fergus, Keira and Cullen...hell I've seen Ty and Zev venture out alone with Leliana more then once. Oghren drinks, Sten paints...Everyone has something or someone."

"I guess." Alistair's eyes sadden, he wants to know what it's like to feel wanted or needed by someone. To loose himself in someone even just for a night, maybe it would help ease his worried mind a little. He'd just been hoping it'd be with Keira. Deciding that maybe trying something new can't be all that bad, he wraps a warm arm around Kate and brings her closer. Her breath smelling of wine, he studies her features. "And you're alright...you know...doing something like this with me? Even knowing..."

Running her fingers through this man's hair, she smiles when he shuts his eyes to enjoy the sensation. "I wouldn't have come out here had I not thought it was a good idea." Casually she drags her fingers down to his neck and shoulders and begins massaging the tension away. "I promise, I won't make any type of jabs, or even talk of this with anyone. This would be just for us, just for tonight."

The prince nods, agreeing with her terms. "A-Alright." He allows himself to lean in closer and take in the smell of her skin and hair. A warm glow forms in the pit of his stomach. _This doesn't seem so bad._

"I know this can be a bit scary at first. But there's no rush." She reminds him. Her hands drift to the opening of his shirt, her thumbs make small circles against his skin. "I can leave if you want or I can..."

His lips gently cover her own. "J-just...let me know if I do anything wrong."

"You won't." Kate pushes her tongue into his mouth and she can feel a groan form in his chest. Gently, the couple lies back down in the grass. Kate makes sure to take her time with him. She doesn't want to do anything to frighten him, or embarrass him. As soon as she finishes untying his shirt, she can sense that he's nervous and anxious all at once. Her hands rub the length of his ribcage, his abdomen and then his chest.

"Relax." The Rogue reminds him. She places yet another lengthy kiss upon his dry lips as she shows his hands where to go. His fingers fumble with the ties of her own shirt, but he figures it out quickly. Hesitantly, his hands play with the collar of her shirt. "Go ahead, it's alright."

Carefully he pulls the material down around her arms, the shirt slips off and she presses her bear chest to his own. The prince beneath her gasps with pleasure and she finds that his kisses are now more fueled. "Tell me what you want to do next." Her hands are at his belt, pulling the leather through the loop. "Is there anything you would like to try?" She wiggles her brow.

Flushed red, excited and lost, Alistair shakes his head. "I...I don't know. I haven't tried...well the act itself." Maker he feels utterly embarrassed. "Can we do that?"

She smiles against his lips and continues undoing his trousers. "Of course. First you have to help me with this." She places his hands on her own clothing and he begins untying the rest of her garments.

Naked before each other, he feels more then exposed, he feels vulnerable. Somehow, the woman in his arms knows exactly what to do to put his mind at ease. Tenderly she begins kissing him once more. "Lie back down." She whispers, her eyes dark and hooded, but he doesn't move. He remains sitting, starring back at her. "Is something wrong?"

Without warning, he pulls her close captures her mouth with his then trails down her neck. One hand gently caressing her breast the other firmly grasping her hip. She can feel his need growing. Panting, she grasps both of his shoulders and lifts herself up. Before allowing herself to descend back down on him, she places a hand against the side of his face. His eyes full of lust stare back at her, patiently waiting for what's to come. Slowly she lowers herself down onto him. His face is flushed and his mouth hangs open agape allowing a deep moan to escape him. As she settles around him, she hisses with pleasure.

"Are you alright." Both their breathing is ragged and quick. He nods his approval and pulls her skull towards him, again his mouth is over hers possessively. Kate begins to move her hips in a manner she knows he'll appreciate. Groans and growls are pushed from his throat into her wanting mouth. His arms flex around her and she knows he'll near his end quickly.

"Whoa, stop." He whispers against her shoulder as he grips her hips tightly. She tries to move once more but his hand grips her tighter in warning. "Just...wait...give me a minute." His breaths are ragged and deep.

"Why?" She begins moving again.

Seeing that there's no reasoning with her, Alistair quickly places Katherine on her back and positions himself over her frame. "Lets slow it down a bit...alright." Slowly, he moves inside her. But this is more of a tease then anything else. She wants release and would prefer if she could have it now.

"Alistair...please. This is too slow." She can feel him smile menacingly against the skin of her shoulder as he continues his slow torturous pace. "Faster, please!" She moans a soft plea. Once more he denies her request. "Maker...Alistair this is torturous." Again she can feel him grin. Not being the type of woman to let things stray out of her control, she wraps one of her legs around his, pushes up with her arm and has him on his back once more. "I asked nicely." She chuckles and is surprised to see him laugh as well.

Alistair attempts to sit, but she forces him back down roughly. "Nope. You stay there." Grinning as she begins to grind her hips with his. With great satisfaction she watches as the man below her tilts his head back and begins to breathe heavily. Gripping her hips, his finger begin to dig into her flesh. Nearing her end, her own fingers begins to dig into his chest. Alistair encourages her to move faster by moving his own hips and using his hands to speed up her pace.

Just as she feels his pulse with in her quicken, he stiffens, arches slightly and groans. Her finger nails draw a few droplets blood from his chest as her body clamps down on him and she too arches and moans. Spent of energy, she allows herself to collapse onto his frame.

"See..." She pants while resting against his body.. "Wasn't that nice?" Showing her appreciation for his cooperation, she plants small kisses across his chest.

Still breathing heavily, Alistair rubs the muscles in her torso and smiles, satisfied. "Yes. Thank-you."

The young Cousland finds her discarded clothing and chuckles. "There's no need to thank me, Alistair."

Following suit, the prince pulls on his pants and ties his belt. "I know...it's just. It was nice." Remaining the gentleman that he is, he kisses her forehead, pics up the empty bag and bottles. "Let me make sure you make it back safe."

"Safe? Alistair...you know I can take you any day of the week right?" She laughs as she pats her hound on the head.

* * *

Is _he_ surprised? Not at all. Why should he be? Surprised is something that occurs when something else happens you didn't see coming. And _this_ , is something that he's not surprised to see at all.

Morrigan trails behind the group that continues on the road to Ostagar. Frustrated the Prince continues at a steady pace. _It must be nice._ He concludes. To have been able to convince someone else to do your dirty work. Alistair remains unsure of the Witch's true agenda. Frankly, he could care less what her real reasoning may be, should her current story turn out to be false. All that remains clear is that a group of people he cares for and one assassin are putting their lives on the line for this, story, this Witch. And this Witch of the Wilds has the audacity to inform them that she can't even be a part of this deed, this little trek she's sending them out on.

It's taking every remaining shred of self control that he has left not to stalk back there, unsheathe his sword and end her pathetic existence. His mind made up, Alistair allows the group to march forward as he makes his way over toward the Witch. Blocking her path, he glares down at her. Showing no sign of resistance, Morrigan bows her head, in what he can only describe as shame.

"You better hope that each and everyone of them make it out of their, alive and in one piece." Alistair licks his dry lips. "Well I wouldn't be heart broken if the Assassin happened to get injured." He takes a step closer and waits for Morrigan to look up at him. "You may think of me as incompetent, weak and soft. But lets get one thing straight. Those people who you sent to murder your crazy mother, they're not doing it for you. They're doing it for _her_ , for Keira. And do you want to know why? Because they care about her, and they don't want to see her hurt or dead. And if anything happens...to any of them..."

Alistair's eyes fill with hate, anger and disgust. "The last thing you'll see, will be me. Pulling my sword from your heartless chest. Are we clear?"

"Yes." She wanted to say something, anything to defend her actions. Anything to stop his rant. But why should she? He has every right to be upset and he has every right to judge her the way that he does. Should any one die at the hands of her deranged mother, could she blame him for wanting her dead? Would she even try to stop him?

"Good." Rolling his shoulders, Alistair turns on his heel and refuses to look at her any longer.


	24. Chapter 24 : Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Still alive and kicking. Just really busy. And you want to know what's odd? I find inspiration in the oddest of places. Like drawing my OCs or rereading my own Fics lol
> 
> BTW Want to know what Keira and Thalia really look like to me? Go here http://vamporchid.deviantart.com/gallery/24184153/Dragon-Age   
> that's my deviantart page with my artwork.
> 
> Disclaimer : Bioware owns most of this!

**Chapter 24 : Pain**

There's pain. A great deal of it. Radiating from his side. Is he going to complain about it? Probably not. Most would be surprised if he even mentions the fact that he's injured at all. Being sent hurdling through the air a good thirty feet back, only to come crashing against the side of a poorly built home, seems to add to the uncomfortable sensation. Not to mention, having that exact same wall crumble and collapse over you, can only add to the growing list of _Ouch_. The ringing in his left ear, however, is probably the thing that's bothering him the most at this time.

Cullen takes a moment to himself while lying in the rubble of the home that once belonged to Flemeth. For a brief second, he allows his eye lids to close. He takes in a shallow breath, his hand grips the hilt of his sword. "Up." He reminds himself. With great effort, the Templar pushes a beam off of his chest and slowly rises from the debris. As the dust settles, his vision begins to make out the outlines of his comrades. In the distance, Sten can be seen surveying the surrounding forest, this massive man remains vigilant and continues to be on guard, constantly on the look out for more enemies.

Zevran is crouched on a boulder, slicing an apple with his dagger, as he patiently waits for the group to move on. As the assassin brings a piece of the fruit to his lips, Cullen notices something. Why is it, that no matter the battle, no matter how hard the assassin fights, he always looks the same as he did prior to the encounter? His hair is still smoothly pulled back, his armor remains spotless and he never seems to have a scratch on him. Cullen has to admit, he's a bit curious as to how the Elf manages it.

The silhouette of the dragon that Flemeth had transformed into, lies motionless, lifeless. Dead. His head tilts back as he thanks the Maker for sparing him once more. As he makes his way closer to the body of the beast, he spits out a mouths full worth of blood. Gently, he rubs his ear, opens his mouth and rotates his jaw, in hopes that he'll cease the high pitch ringing.

"Make sure to search the area for any supplies. I'm going to find the other Grimmoire." Keira is visibly shaken as well. She seems to be using her staff for support. "We will address everyone's wounds and then we will continue making our way to Ostagar."

Still walking around in a bit of a daze, Cullen finally comes to a halt when he arrives at the head of the dragon. Blankly, he stares at it's eyes. Again, he spits out a bit of blood. Rolling his right shoulder, he's reminded at how welcomed a hot bath would be at this very moment. The thick dust from the encounter has settled on the skin and armor of his friends, giving them an odd dirty appearance that in other situations might have been comical.

Suddenly, he feels someone grip his forearm.

"I said are you alright?" Wynne asks, her eyes filled with concern.

"Sorry." The Templar answers a bit too loudly. "I-I can't hear all that well. There's a ringing." He points to his left ear, as he continues to explain with an off key voice.

The enchantress offers a warm smile, places a hand over his injured ear, shuts her eyes and whispers a few words. Within seconds he can feel it. The healing warmth of her magic. Quickly, a pooling sensation is felt and then it's gone. The sounds of the world are heard once more and in this moment, he's grateful.

"Thank-you Wynne." He lets out a deep exhale. "That was driving me mad."

"You are very welcome." The old woman nods and carefully makes her way past the rubble and towards the dirt road. "We shouldn't linger here too long."

"Found it." The mage Amell clutches a small pack to her chest as she slowly makes her way out of the destroyed hut. "We're done here. If there are no major injuries...I'd like to meet up with Alistair's group. I'm sure they could probably use a hand."

* * *

The _smell._ It's probably something no one, other then darkspawn, can get use to. As the corpse of King Cailan burns upon a makeshift burial pyre, Alistair tries to control the urge he has to vomit. Sure, he's been to funerals before. Not long ago, he helped Keira, Thalia and Cullen build pyres for their fallen comrades at the Tower. But _that_ was nothing like _this._ The body of his brother, his King, had been left to rot for months, out in the open. Not only was the sight of his decaying form enough to turn even the strongest of stomachs, but the _smell_...

Alistair hates to admit it even to himself, that the fire wasn't just for a King's funeral, final goodbyes, or even for his dignity. It was to rid the area of this _smell._ The odor. No one should be remembered in such a way. The bastard prince swallows a lump he's been holding in his throat. Not one of sorrow or regret. No, this is a reflex, to keep himself from emptying his stomach right there.

He's disgusted. With the smells, the sights and mostly himself. How he wishes he could feel something, anything, for the loss of his brother. A brother he didn't really know. But as a King, he knew only that Cailan tried to do what he thought was best for his people. For this he hangs his head in shame. The lost of a good King and most of the Grey Wardens, his family. Alistair feels as though he has failed them.

His mind begins to wander. If this is what has happened to his King, what has become of his mentor? If this is the stench of just one body, what will the scent coming from a field or a town full of darkspawn victims be like? He can feel his throat tighten, he wants to gag. Then his eyes leave the fire and land on the Witch. With everything going on, he'd forgotten about her and how she too disgusts him. He brings a closed fist to his mouth and then shuts his eyes, again he feels the uneasiness of his stomach. If he doesn't remove himself from this spot and soon, he's going to vomit.

The Prince heads for a small clearing a few feet away and takes a seat on a large stone. "Breathe." He reminds himself.

"Are you alright?" A soft voice calls out to him gently.

"I'm...I'm fine..." Alistair takes in a deep breath. "Just needed a moment to myself."

"Are you feeling ill? Because you don't..." Kate takes a few steps closer.

Aggravated with his current state, Alistair is losing patience. "I'm. Fine." He cuts her words short behind gritted teeth.

Kate studies his movements. His back clearly illuminated with the light of the fire, she's able to see him as he places his head in his hands and leans forward. "Alright. Just...let me know if you need anything."

Silence. He wants to say 'thanks' or anything that shows his appreciation, but when he opens his mouth to reply, nothing leaves his lips. He settles for uncomfortable silence.

Just as the youngest Cousland's footsteps are heard walking in the opposite direction, something catches Alistair's attention. Squinting his eyes, he sees Keira Amell and Cullen heading his way. "Maker, finally...some good news for a change." He hopes beyond all hope that everyone has made it out of the wilds alive. Yes, even the assassin.

As the rest of the small party is also seen making their way towards him, Alistair is startled when Kate's hound begins to bark excitedly. "Maker..."

"Keira!" Thalia begins making her way towards her friends open arms. "You're alright!" The two mages embrace for a short moment. "This place was crawling with darkspawn. As far as we know, we've cleared the area."

"For now." Alistair adds. "But we really should be moving. Staying here is a really bad idea." He dusts off his hands against his thighs, adjust his breast plate and stands to great his friends.

Cullen makes his way over to his fellow Templar and the two shake hands. "Everyone accounted for?"

"Everyone." Alistair tosses a quick glance over his shoulder, both men eye the Witch. "I see you've all made it, safe and sound. Find what you needed?" His eyes now land on the dark-haired mage by Cullen's side.

"Yes." Keira answers quickly, her grip on the small sack tightens as she realizes that Morrigan will be more then pleased with these findings. "It wasn't an easy task..."

"Neither was any of this." Alistair licks his dry lips and gestures to the pyre and the darkspawn bodies behind him. "I hate to cut this short, but we really must be moving."

Amell nods, clears her throat and then makes her way over to the Witch.

" _She_ transformed into a dragon." Cullen explains, clearly exhausted. "Almost killed all of us."

"I see." Alistair's gaze never leaves Keira's form as she heads over to Morrigan and hands her a bag of what he can only assume is a sack of Witch goodies.

"I was able to use my Templar abilities." Cullen's eyes are also following Keira as she converses with her friend. "Without the use of Lyrium. And for some reason...I feel better now. Almost as if using those talents calmed whatever it was that was causing those episodes."

"Really?" The bastard prince, now interested in this new topic, turns his attention back to the Templar Knight. "You really need to talk with Keira about this."

"Why? I see no reason to now. I feel fine. Great even." Cullen shrugs his shoulders. "Well...other then my side. I feel fine."

Alistair rolls his eyes. "Fine. Just remember if anything goes wrong later on. I told you so." He laughs and pats his friend on the shoulder. "You should get Thalia to check out your ribs."

"Later. Everyone is tired and we still need to make our way out of here. H-how are you handling..." Cullen gestures towards the funeral pyre with his chin.

"I'm handling it." Alistair absentmindedly kicks at the gravel beneath his boot. "It's just...we found him bound and rotting...it was...is...a bit too much to try and register right now to be honest."

"I'm sorry. He was a good King." Cullen tries to offer some sort of condolences. "Probably best to think on this after..."

Alistair chuckles lightly. "After we defeat Lohgain, slay the archdemon and maybe place a crown on my head. Yeah, there will be time later..." He sighs. "Lets round up the troops and get out of here."

* * *

_Redcliffe._

Alistair dries his hair quickly with a towel, gets dressed and then all but collapses onto a chair. Just a he debates calling it a night, there's a knock at the door.

"It's open." He's surprised to see Keira enter his room. Without hesitation, he stands. "Oh, Keira. Did you need something?"

"No." She answers. "May I?" She points to the opposite chair.

"Oh. Uhm, yes. Sorry. Please, sit." Once the mage is seated, he follows suit. "So what can I help you with?"

Adjusting her posture, Amell eyes the prince carefully. "Nothing really. I've just come to check on you."

"I already told you. I'm fine." He's irritated. Yes his brother is dead. Yes it bothered him. Why wouldn't it?

Keira folds her hands in her lap and waits a moment before starting again. She's trying to figure out the best way to approach this subject. "I've noticed that you're keeping more and more to yourself. I understand your anger towards Morrigan, but you barely say anything to anyone."

"My anger towards Morrigan." He repeats her words flatly. "No I don't think you do, but that doesn't matter."

"You seem to avoid me at all costs. I haven't heard you say more then two words to Cullen. You avoid eye contact with Kate. Alistair, I haven't seen you train or even toss a stick for Kate's hound." The mage Amell exhales a shaky breath. "If something's wrong or if something is bothering you...I want you to know that you can talk to me."

Alistair's mind begins to race with thoughts. Thoughts he could never explain to _her._ Yes, he's angry with Morrigan. For endangering the people he cares about. For her selfishness, her secretiveness, her cruelty, her venom. Her spite. This he could probably explain, but the rest?

How can he train when he feels so exhausted? When almost all his will is drained.

How can he be around Keira, when he so desperately wants and needs her comfort and love. When all he wants to do is reach out and pull her close. To feel her lips pressed against his own once more.

How can he say more then a friendly greeting to a man he greatly respects, but envies so much. And in the debts of his soul, he feels guilty. Guilty for thinking some of the things his imagination comes up with. Guilty for still harboring feelings for someone who's heart belongs to another.

How can he possibly look at Kate? When all he wants to do after constantly feeling the sting of rejection, is crawl in her bed and feel her body pressed against his skin. Just so he doesn't feel so alone.

_Pathetic._

"I know." The only thing he can think of as an answer. "But there's nothing to discuss. I'm fine."

"Alright." She doesn't want to pry. "Get some rest. We have a long journey ahead of us."

Just as the mage reaches the door, Alistair regrets his earlier behavior. "Keira...Thanks."

With a curt nod, she exits his room.


	25. Chapter 25 : Never Far Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please keep in mind that most of this story had been written/finished before I even got my hands on the new DAI. Most of this story is just sitting in my pc waiting for final touches on the rest of the chapters. But here's the thing. I completed my first PT of the new game. Although somethings are explained in the game (i'm not gonna spoil anything here) I'm going to continue with the original plot I had for this story. Chances are I will do another story for the new game at a later date regardless. And as always, please remember to R and R!
> 
> Disclaimer : I own Keira, Thalia, that's it.

**Chapter 25 : Never Far Behind**

"Denerim is the heart and soul of Ferelden. If we defeat Loghain here, the rest of the nation will follow us. By calling the Landsmeet, I've struck the first blow. The advantage, for the moment, is ours. He will have little choice but to show himself, to oppose us directly. He will strike back at us. The only question that remains, is how soon?" Arl Eamon strokes the beard at his chin, deep in thought. "We need eyes and ears in the city. Loghain has been here for months. The roots of his schemes must begin here. The sooner we find them, the better we can turn them to our advantage."

The Arl places his hands behind his back and takes a few steps closer to the fireplace, his mind still racing with the many scenarios that could occur. For some odd reason, from this angle, Keira finds that the Arl reminds her of Irving. Maybe she just misses the old man, or maybe she's just homesick. Whatever the reason, she finds herself missing things and people she once new.

"Go have a look around and see what you can turn up. Better yet, find the nobles that have arrived for the Landsmeet. Test the waters, see how many will support us. We can lay out our plans for the Landsmeet once you uncover more information."

With a curt nod, Keira and Alistair leave the Arl's quarters and head down the hall.

"Where should we start?" Amell glances quickly in Alistair's direction.

"Not sure. Maybe we should all get some sleep and start in the morning." The prince stifles a yawn with his fist.

"Agreed." Keira rubs at her tired eyes. "It's best to get the bit of rest when we can. Lets tell everyone to settle in for the night."

* * *

"I know where we're going to start." Alistair informs the group over their morning meal.

"Oh really?" Keira sips at the warm tea between her hands. "Had an epiphany over night did you?" She jests.

"Right, real funny." Clearing his throat, Alistair takes a seat next to Keira and Cullen at the large oak table. "We had a visitor very early this morning. I just happened to meet up with the Arl as he was talking with her."

"Go on..." The dark-haired mage is now interested. It must be important if Alistair was not the first one stuffing his face this morning.

"Erlina, Anora's handmaiden was speaking with Eamon when I walked in. Long story short, she's asking for our help on behalf of Anora."

"What?" Amell tosses the prince a confused look. "You can't be serious."

Alistair grabs a loaf of bread, tears off a piece and begins making himself a quick sandwich while he continues explaining. "Seems that Anora and her father are not on the same page. She suspects his involvement in the King's death. Apparently, she tried speaking with Loghain...well tried asking him about the rumors surrounding him and Cailan's death. He keeps giving her the brush off."

The prince cuts into a small wheel of cheese, then a side of beef and forms his meal. "Anora wants the truth and since she can't seem to get that from her own father, she decides to demand answers from Rendon Howe."

"I'm guessing that didn't go well." Cullen folds his hands together, waiting patiently for the 'point' of all this.

Smiling, Alistair takes a large bite out of his sandwich. "Exactly." The prince takes a quick gulp of warm cider. "It gets better...Howe locked Anora up in one of his guest rooms."

"So why doesn't Loghain just send his men in there..." Keira ponders.

Alistair waves off her train of thought. "She'd be dead before they even got through the front gate."

"This sounds more and more like a trap." Cullen shakes his head and leans back in his chair. He doesn't like the sound of any of this.

"Agreed. But...if we leave her there and Howe kills her...they could blame her death on us. However, if we save her, she could be an asset during the Landsmeet." Alistair exhales deeply. "And I know what you're thinking. She could be in on this as well...it could all be a giant set up."

"What should we do?" Keira drags her fingers through her long hair. "If we rescue her and it's not a trap, we'll have gained an extra ally for the Landsmeet. But...if it's a set up..."

"The handmaiden gave me guard uniforms. She says they go through so many new soldiers, that having a few more unfamiliar faces wouldn't be something out of the ordinary." Alistair places a large sack of clothing on the table. "There's a catch though."

"You don't say..." The Templar's not impressed. Not. One. Bit.

"There's only four uniforms." Alistair sighs.

Hearing this conversation, Fergus and Kate make their way towards the end of the table. "We claim two of those." Fergus informs, his arms crossed in-front of his chest. "And it's not up for debate."

Without hesitation, Keira nods and hands each of the Cousland siblings a uniform. "Wouldn't dream of it." The mage then takes a uniform for herself and hands one to Alistair. "I'm going and so are you. I doubt it's a good idea bringing the future King...but it might give Anora a better impression of you and she might be quicker to help us during the Landsmeet."

Amell places a hand on Cullen's forearm. "I'll be fine."

"I don't like this..." The large Templar rolls his head from side to side. "Something doesn't feel right. You have to know this is some kind of trap."

"It could be." She admits. "But what are we to do? Something has to be done."

"Fine." He's pissed. Pointing an angry finger in the mage's direction he ushers a warning. "But I swear...i-if you end up in some kind of mess...or worse...dead. Just remember..."

"Yeah, yeah. You told me so." She giggles and places a kiss on his cheek.

"I mean it." He grabs hold of her small wrist. "Should you come to any harm... Loghain and Howe won't be able to amass an army large enough to hide behind." Cullen stares into her large eyes. "Don't make me come in there after you. You'll be sorry." He smirks.

"Promises, promises."

* * *

It smells damp and moldy. She can feel rough soiled cloth wrapped around her naked body. Also, she feels as though she's being cradled by someone. Although the air in this dark room is cool, she feels warm. Slowly, Amell begins to open her eyes. She finds herself protectively wrapped in Alistair's arms, who's asleep, sitting on the cold stone floor.

A sudden rush of pain to the back of her head causes her to hiss as she gently grazes the tender spot with her fingers.

"You're awake!" The prince adjusts his posture. "I was starting to worry. You took a pretty good blow to the back of your head." His arms around her begin to relax.

"Where...where are we?" Keira attempts to sit on her own, she can feel one of his hands on her back.

"Fort Drakon." He informs. "He's going to kill me." His voice is shaky.

"Loghain?" Keira scoffs. "How come he hasn't had us executed already?"

"No, no." Alistairs scoffs. "Not him. Cullen."

Amell can feel a bit of the blood drain from her face. "Maker... He's going to be furious..."

* * *

"You know, you're quite fetching in that..." Zeveran's eyes trail up and down the tall Templar accompanying him. "Maybe the colors and fabrics of nobility suit you far more then your hulking armor. All that metal and chain mail, it's so constricting and hides a great deal of your...assets." He adds with a grin, allowing his tongue to wet his lips as he pulls in a bit of air through his teeth.

"Do shut up..." Cullen warns flatly, a bit of crimson stains his cheeks. "Now, just keep to the plan that we discussed."

"Yes, yes." The assassin rolls his eyes. "I am your educated, yet very attractive servant. However, in these rags..."

Cullen exhales slowly. "Don't start with the clothing again...we have more important matters at hand." He provides the elf with a satchel containing false documents.

Making a noise of disappointment, Zevran takes the offered bag as if offended by it. "Easy for you to say when you're standing there all dashing in Royal blues and Golds..." He thumbs through the parchments softly. "I on the other hand, am forced to hide this maker gifted, bronzed body behind this mess of beige and turquoise..." He sighs and places the bag over his shoulder. "It's an injustice."

"A bloody tragedy..." Cullen straightens his posture.

"My point exactly. So glad you could see it like that. Too few would understand the torture." Zevran turns and faces the massive, double, metal doors. "To be blessed with this figure...only to have to..."

"For the Love of Andraste..." The Templar pleas. "Would you just knock on the door."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:It seems to be of some concern to some readers that Keira is kind of, well still, some sort of weak little girl in distress. Please be reminded that this story is more about things that make someone strong. Sometimes, for some people that takes time. This is basically her journey and what turns her into this 'Legend' that everyone talks about later on in life.


	26. Chapter 26: Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this one. Just started school again, and when you get to be my age with kids and school, it becomes hard to get everything done. As always I hope you enjoy and please R&R!!

**Chapter 26: Waiting**

It's the screaming, the sounds of flesh being torn apart by whips and chains. That's what make your stomach churn and the blood in your veins run cold. It's the smell and the noise here that is almost unbearable. Keira attempts to open her cell door and as she had suspected, it's locked. Here eyes scan her surroundings, a few guards remain near the entrance, but her robes, staff and any of Alistair's items don't seem to be anywhere in this room. She can hear the jingles of keys as one of their guards continues to finish his rounds.

"Alright, I think I've come up with something..." Amell knows that the Prince will not agree with this plan.

"I'm not going to like this...am I?" He can tell by the shift in her eyes that his day is just about to get a lot worse.

The mage attempts to manage her tattered hair, wets her lips and wipes clean any visible dirt from her skin. "How do I look?" She spreads her arms away from her frame, as if trying to sell her muddled image.

The notion of what she might have in mind finally sinks in. Disgusted with the idea, a grimace spreads across his face. "No." Alistair points at her sternly. "Uh uh, nope. Not happening." He's serious. Not a chance."

"Listen just sit here and pretend that you're asleep, or passed out...or something." She takes him by the hand, directs him towards the corner on the opposite side of their prison door. "I'll...persuade one of our guardsmen to join me in here. Once he does, you'll be able to do something stealthy."

"Stealthy?" He sighs. Alistair may not like this plan of hers, but it's the only option they have at the moment. "Or you could just freeze him."

"Right... we'll improvise. Either way... we're gonna get out of here." Keira stands next to the bars hoping to hear anyone heading towards them. "All we need is for that guard to come back here before he finishes his rounds." Tiny hands wrap around cold metal bars. Their cage.

Alistair clears his throat. "So we escape using the powers of your feminine charm. Assuming the guard prefers women or is extremely dim witted. We dash out of here practically naked and fight a fort full of guards with the weapons we pick up a long the way. Right. Nothing wrong with this plan."

"Shhh..." The mage continues staring between her cell bars. "Someone's coming."

There's a shallow gasp in the corridor just out of sight and then a sickening thud. The flame of the torch on the wall dances in a small breeze. Something or someone is being dragged. There's another thud as a helm comes rolling into the room. Something makes a crack and then everything is quiet.

Alert, Alistair rushes to the mages side. "What in Andrastes name..." The two friends remain very still, as if their movements would cause too much noise for them to hear anything below a whisper.

Then, without a sound Zevran rounds the corner. Smirking, he turns back to the hallway. "Over here." Continuing his smirk, he twirls a large key ring around his index finger while gingerly making his way towards the cell door. "My dear Wardens, I'm happy to see that you haven't succumb to any torture. However, given the state that you're in..." The assassin is now trying each key in the lock.

"Did you happen to see any of our belongings?" The Prince continues to survey the entrance to this small area. "And what about the guards...how many do you think are left?"

"We only cleared what we needed to, in order to get to you." Cullen informs as he enters the small area. Wiping the blood off of his blade on the forearm of his tunic, he can see a disapproving scowl spread across Zev's face. The atmosphere in the room changes from distressed to tense. Very, very tense. The two captives know what kind of mess they are in and suspect that one of their rescuers is not about to offer hugs and honey cakes.

The Templar examines the sword in his possession attentively. "I'm not going to say I told you so. There's no need."

"Cullen..." Keira begins to explain. She also notices that the Elf is no longer fiddling with the keys, instead he has abandoned them and is now trying to pick the lock.

The large Templar shuts his eyes and shakes his head, ignoring her protests. "Not only have you both put the potential future King in grave danger...that's you." He points to Alistair with his weapon. "In case you've forgotten."

"With all do respect. I believe this entire situation is mostly..." Alistair begins to argue their case, but quickly decides to shut his trap when he locks eyes with a very irritated Cullen. "Uh, forget I said anything."

"But you've also put our mission in jeopardy. We have a war to fight. A battle that can only be fought and won by Grey Wardens." Cullen points to the dark sky seen through the small window behind him. "I don't know if either of you have noticed, but the last time I checked there was only a few of us left!" His hands begin to tremble slightly.

The mage jumps at his sudden outburst.

"Who will fight the Archdemon and its army, if all of us are dead!? From now on, all decisions regarding the fate of this campaign are to be made by all of the remaining Grey Wardens in this group!" Recognizing that expressing his frustrations at this moment has not been the wisest of choices, Cullen decides to take a moment to calm himself. A large wooden chest in the far corner catches his attention. Upon inspection he recovers a few articles of clothing.

"This lock was a bit stubborn at first, but just like a woman, in the end it had no choice but to succumb to my will." The assassin winks in the bastard Prince's direction as he opens the cell door. "Let us leave this dreadful place. I wish to be rid of these ridiculous garments as soon as possible."

Cullen tosses a tunic and a pair of trousers in Alistair's direction. "Here, these should do for the time being." Exhaling deeply, he wraps Keira in his own blue coat. "I couldn't find anything that would actually cover you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's better then running around half..." The mage rolls up the sleeves so that her spell casting won't be interfered with.

"No, not for that. For my behavior just moments ago. I meant what I said, just not as harshly." He wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her close. "When I heard about what happened... all I could think of was you. Not the Archedemon. Not the war. You. Were you even still alive. What would I do if you..." Cullen sighs. "That doesn't matter now. You're safe. We'll get out of here and we'll talk about darkspawn later. For now you're safe."

* * *

Exhausted, half-dressed and in serious need of a hot bath, Keira trails behind Cullen as they enter Eamon's estate. She can hear familiar voices discussing various topics as they make their way towards the common room. That's when she looses her self-control. "You double crossing bitch!" The mage slaps Anora across the face, far harder then she had anticipated. "How dare you show yourself here!"

Cullen manages to wrap his arms around Keira's waist and pulls her back. "Let me go! She's the reason we were in that dungeon! We were ambushed by Loghain's men and then she fed us to the wolves. We almost died for you!"

Shocked at this woman's demeanor, Anora rubs her cheek, her face twists with disgust. "Well, what did you expect me to do? You announced me to my father's most trusted lackey. Did the purpose of my disguise entirely escape you? I barely managed to slip away from her when we reached the palace." Licking her swollen lip, the Queen smooths out the lines in her dress. "I am hoping that, despite our unfortunate beginning, we can still work together. Will you hear me out?"

Calm, but not convinced, Keira nods. "Fine." Cullen releases his hold on her. "I'll listen, but I promise nothing."

"We will need to work together and quickly." Anora crosses her arms and licks her lip once more. Keira assumes this is probably not the first time this woman has been struck. "My father has gone mad. I didn't believe it at first, but he is gripped with a paranoia so severe it prevents him from seeing sense. He saw me as a threat, yet even now I'm certain he will be telling the nobles that you are dangerous murderers that have kidnapped and mind-controlled me. He may even believe it."

Alistair is growing more and more annoyed. "So why did we risk our lives for you? Why are you here?"

Drained, the Queen takes a seat. "You will need ammunition come the Landsmeet, and I can help in that regard. You have only just arrived in the city, so perhaps you are unaware of some...recent events."

"Oh? Is that so?" Fergus who'd been leaning against the door frame this entire time decides to shed some light on this topic. "You don't think we know that Denerim has been in turmoil since Ostagar? Most of the people here are angry or grieving. We were able to find out quite a bit on our own. Even made a few allies along the way."

"This is true." Ty adds to the conversation. "While these four were planning a 'Queen's Rescue', the rest of us decided to do some digging ourselves. We're resourceful like that." The elf snickers. "See I use to live in the alienage. I know for a fact there weren't many elves from Denerim that joined the army in Ostagar. So I started questioning people I knew, why would they be so upset with the ones in charge here. Long story short, there was a slave trade set up and guess who is connected to it."

Surprised, but not shocked, Anora remains seated. Not once does she hint at being nervous or anxious. Quite the opposite. The Queen remains poise and regal throughout their discussion. The perfect example of Royalty and inner strength.

Fergus adjusts his weight against the wooden frame, it creeks under the pressure of the human form. "Noblemen, soldiers, Templars and a Grey Warden all found in Howe's dungeons. All willing to protest against your father. Seems to me that we have more then enough witnesses on our side to prove our point. Loghain is a tyrant and needs to be stopped." The Cousland shrugs his shoulders in a matter-of-fact sort of way.

The Queen contemplates this information for a moment. "Good, you'll need that evidence for the Landsmeet, but you also need a stronger candidate for the thrown. You need me."

Keira begins laughing almost uncontrollably. "You can't be serious."

Cullen looks over towards Alistair and then shares a look of concern with Fergus. Something feels amiss. Uncertain of why this conversation causes him to feel alarmed, the Templar opts to not saying anything for the moment. However, judging by the way Fergus is now glaring at the Queen, he knows he's not alone in this train of thought.

Anora tries to keep her composer. "I have no doubt that Alistair is biddable enough, and decent, but even with his blood, he's no King. You think only I can see it? Not only that, Alistair is a Grey Warden. It will look like you are trying to put a Grey Warden on the throne, despite your claims. I am a neutral party, and I am already Queen."

Frustrated, Eamon decides to step in. "Anora, you are indeed Cailan's widow but..."

Sighing, Anora makes her way to the hearth and observes the people before her. "I am the daughter of Ferelden's greatest general. Who do you think truly ruled this nation for the last five years? Cailan? I am what this country needs. Not an untrained King who doesn't even want the throne. I can help you stop my father. Consider what I have said. For now, I think I will retire to my room." With that said, the Queen and her hand maiden leave the common room. The large doors close behind them and the room suddenly feels a bit lighter.

"I can't help but think that she may be trouble. I don't think she means to give up her power easily." Fergus glares at the flames in the fireplace.

"Agreed. But we should keep her close, all the same. This way here we can keep an eye on her so that she's not able to actively work for Loghain." Eamon knows what the other nobleman is thinking. That this may have been her plan all along. Get them to do all the leg work and dig up all her father's dirty laundry, then use this to her own advantage. Or that Loghain himself convinced his daughter to set them up, in some other sort of trap.

"She's right..." Alistair all but collapses onto a near by chair. "I don't know the first thing about being King."

"She is without a husband now." Eamon begins to steer the conversation in a different direction. "It would be unseemly for her to marry so soon after Cailan's death. However, it's a risk she may take if it meant securing her claim to the throne."

Appalled, Alistair raises his hands in defense. "Are you suggesting what I think you are? No, never mind. I don't even want to hear the rest of this."

"But it would be the strongest argument to remove Loghain from power. With Theirin blood back on the throne, and Anora's wisdom and popularity. Ferelden could present the most united front against the blight."

"No! I won't hear any of this!" Alistair commands, his fists hit the arms of his chair. "I've decided to fight for the throne, but that doesn't mean I'll be paired off with some horrid woman for favor...like some prized dog!"

"Alistair." The dark-haired mage grips his shoulder gently. "Like I've promised you before, no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to. That includes an unwanted marriage. Right?" Her eyes land on the old man before her.

Clearing his throat, Eamon places his hands behind his back. Not wanting to upset his future King, he has no choice but to agree. "Of course. It was only a suggestion."

Alistair nods in his uncle's direction. "Fine. But I won't hear of it again. It's absurd and frankly gross. She was Cailan's wife..." The Prince rubs a tired hand over his face. "I need to sleep."


	27. Chapter 27 : Forgetting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a smutty chapter. But it's filled with sorrow and humor and was just plain fun to write. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer : DA is property of Bioware

**Chapter 27 : Forgetting**

Drinking has never really been his 'thing'. Sure, he enjoys it well enough, but it's never something he's ever had the 'need' for. Well that is not until what happened to Oriana and Oren. Fergus downs the last bit of ale in his glass. The warm liquid quickly makes its way down his throat, warming his core when it hits his center. Not wanting to think of past and recent memories made grim, he pours himself another glass full.

"Refill?" He asks his sibling. His dark eyes feel heavy as he glances at her from across the large oak table.

Declining his offer with a raised hand, Kate sighs heavily. "Does it make it better?" Her focus remains on the dark liquid in her goblet.

Fergus assumes that she's referring to the alcohol. "Sometimes." He admits, shrugging his shoulders. The ale in his mug swirls and creates small bubbles that rise to the surface.

"Huh...no not that." Adjusting her posture, Kate licks her lips and shakes her head. "I meant, Howe dead. Does it make it better? Because I don't feel any better." Flashes of a horrible and ashen man play in her minds eye, as her brother had swung several bloody blows with his weapon while letting out a feral scream.

"No, it doesn't." Fergus wipes his wet mouth with the back of his hand and forcefully deposits his ale onto the table. "Call it what you want, revenge, justice...take your pick. I did it for them...for our family. It won't bring them back. It won't make it right. Hell, it won't even fill the void. But I'd rather be damned by a blood mage, then to have allowed that bastard one more minute of breath. While...while my wife and child lie dead. While my family still has need for a proper burial."

Kate winces at this.

"We don't even know what happened to their bodies, Kate." His eyes brim with tears. "We don't even know..."

"I know." Kate feels a shudder travel throughout her body. "Maybe...when this is all over with, we can travel back home and give them all a proper burial." The youngest Cousland reaches across the table to grip her brother's large hand. Her own tears escaping her eyes and making trails down her face.

Nodding, Fergus clears his throat. "I think that's a good idea. It'll be hard..."

"But we'll do it together." Kate squeezes his fingers, offering her reassurance. "And then, maybe we can rebuild. Remind the people that the Couslands are still here, still fighting and still strong. And maybe, we can heal."

"What would I do without you my dear sister?"

* * *

Steam rises from the bath as Alistair leans back and allows the waters to heat and redden his skin. Arms hang over the sides of the large tub as he rests the base of his skull against the edge and sighs. He can hear water trickling over the sides and land on the stone floor. The fire in the hearth the only light in the room, for a moment, he feels as though he can take a moment to breathe and relax. Closing his eyes, he decides to think of anything but the Landsmeet. _Cheese, cheese is nice._

"Hello?" A small voice and there's a quiet, quick rap on his door. "Alistair?" _Kate, at this hour?_

Normally he wouldn't let anyone venture into his chamber when he's nude, but at this moment he doesn't care, and Katherine, we'll she...they. "It's open." He continues to rest in the hot waters, his eyes remain closed. He can hear the door open, a small chuckle and the door latches closed. "Is something wrong?" The prince questions, while adjusting his posture slightly and opening his eyes, letting her know she at least has his attention.

"No, everything's fine." The rogue pulls her night gown in closer. "I was just coming to check on you actually. See how you're faring."

Alistair exhales loudly. "Just dandy. You know, thinking about cheese." He grins and relaxes once more in the bath.

Snickering, Kate takes a chair and brings it to the back of the large portable bath tub. She knows that he was most likely actually thinking about food, this thought alone is enough to bring a smile to her face. Sitting behind the prince, Katherine grabs the soap from the table and lathers it between her hands. Gently she begins massaging his scalp. "Lie back, I don't bite."

Doing as she asks, the price clears his throat. "And you. How are you and your brother handling..." He trails off, unsure how to bring up Howe into the conversation.

Satisfied with the amount of suds in his hair, Kate grabs the pitcher. "I am, will be alright. Fergus on the other hand...He says he's fine." She pours water over Alistair's hair.

"But you know better." Alistair hears her sigh loudly. "He'll be fine in time. I'm sure of it. He just needs time."

"Sit up please." He can feel her tiny hands rubbing soap over his torso, massaging his tired and aching muscles.

"Besides, he has Thalia. She'll take good care of him, you can count on that." A chuckle leaves his throat. "I realize that sounded a lot more...dirty...than I intended." At that he hears her giggle. At least he got a positive reaction out of her.

"Speaking of dirty." He drags out the last word. "What are you doing? Washing a Prince, some kind of secret fantasy you have?"

Kate splashes him with the water lightly. "Isn't it every girls fantasy?" She laughs as she searches for the pitcher once more.

"Please tell me that this isn't something you do on a regular basis. Sneak into young men's rooms and bathe them." That earns him a quick playful smack behind the head. "Owe."

"No. That would be scandalous." Again she sighs. "Other then my mabari and you, the only other person I use to wash up in a bath was my nephew. Sweet little Oren." She can almost hear his little giggles, the memory of that little boy as he splashed her and tossed bubbles in the air.

Alistair shifts in the water when her hands remain still on his shoulder blades. "Kate...I'm so sorry." Turning to see her, he catches a tear with his thumb as it makes its way down her cheek. His heart begins to race, panicked, he doesn't know what to say. Tries to think of anything he would have found comforting himself if someone had talked about Duncan. His mind blank, he settles for placing his lips gently against her own. _Comfort in actions after all._

Her body relaxes and she winds her arms around his neck. "That time on the river banks...it doesn't have to be a one time thing." She suggests. His frame is so close, so unimaginably inviting.

Against his better judgement, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into the waters. She's laughing against the grin now spreading like wild fire across his face. Her robes, now completely soaked, the water flowing freely over the edges of the tub. "You're making a mess."

His mouth captures hers once more. Adjusting their bodies, he removes what little wet clothing she's wearing and lifts her by the hips. The prince's eyes search her own for a silent grant of permission or rejection. Seeing none, Alistair gently guides her down and she envelopes him. The couple lets out a hardy gasp. Her skilled hands grip the edges of the tub by his shoulders.

"Will this help?" He's sincere, and hopes that she understands what he's asking. If this can help her forget, even for just a little bit, then he'll be more then happy to oblige. She's done it for him. Granted she had seemed to enjoy it as well. "I want to do something for you."

"It's helping." She answers while pushing her lips against his. "Lets just forget." The rogue grinds down with her hips. "Everything, everyone. Just for a little while. Does that sound selfish?" She hisses, her body excited when she feels him push up within her.

"No." Quickly he sits forward, wraps his arms around her frame and kisses the length of her neck. Her hands entwine in his hair. "As long as I'm not taking advantage..."

Her grip tightens on his locks. "Of me? Please, Alistair." The man beneath her shutters as she continues to rock her hips. The soapy waters continue to splash about. Her thighs squeeze his frame a bit harder, again the prince groans. "There's other things we can try, you know." She wiggles her brow at him suggestively as she continues moving herself against him.

"This isn't...pleasing?" He can feel heat rising to his face. "Can't we just stay like..." The Cousland woman rolls her hips slowly, then descends upon him quickly. "Maker."

"I'm just suggesting. You know we can die at any moment..."

"Keep doing things to me like that and I just might now." He muses as he nips her shoulder. The evil woman does that same movement once more.

She bites down on her bottom lip as she rocks against him once more. "You wouldn't prefer to take me against your bed, bent over, screaming your name..." She jests, but doesn't get to finish her sentence. Suddenly, he has the urge to follow through with her suggestive thought, to feel her hind quarters against his thighs as he slams into her. He growls low, _this is her doing._

Alistair hoists her against his frame as he steps out of the bath and carries her to his bed. "Fine." He says in a husky tone. Gently he places Kate on her abdomen, allowing her to adjust her position. Grabbing his forearm, she ushers him closer. She can feel his bare thighs against the back of her own. "I'm not going to hurt you?" He asks concerned once more.

"No." She guides him quickly to her entrance, feels him press in and moans. "See, everything's fine." His hips buck unintentionally, he hisses, surrounded in pure ecstasy. One of his hands holds onto her hip while the other is pressed between her shoulder blades. The prince begins mimicking her earlier movements. "If you could, please just don't stop." She pleads.

The noise their skin makes as it makes contact with each thrust has him convinced that everyone alive knows of their current activities. Not to mention the woman moaning with pleasure, repeating his name. "Alistair..." Is only helping feed his paranoia.

This is something he's never expected of himself. Something so, carnal. With a woman he regards as nothing more then a friend. Or maybe he could see something more, with her, this woman. Katherine. Maybe. With time.

And still...

Still he feels guilt. Ashamed. As this woman before him, pleasures him on a level he couldn't even imagine prior to this. The guilt builds and grows in the pit of his soul, knowing full well that he wishes she were another woman. Knowing she's more than aware of this fact, but still allows this to continue. His movements stop.

"I can't." He pulls away, defeated. Embarrassed. "This is wrong."

"You're wishing that I were her." She exclaims, but is not at all bothered or surprised.

"Yes." He admits, no longer carrying for dignity. The truth.

"I understand. But we're just trying to forget for a bit, remember."

Alistair nods. "I know, but it's just..." His eyes scan the flooring. _Idiot_ , he berates himself. Kate's hands are rubbing the length of his forearms.

"You want her to scream your name. Shout her love for you, while your bodies are wrapped around each other. There's no shame in that." She says softly, as she kisses his chest and neck. "But she won't. She's too busy screwing that other Templar. Screaming the name of another man..." She feels his muscles tense under her caresses. "I know that doesn't make it any better...but do you think she's thinking of you. Because she isn't."

"It's not that." He sighs. "It's not fair to you."

"Why? I'm not some little naive girl. I know what's going on here. Do I look bothered to you?" Kate pulls his arms around her frame. "Now I was promised some assistance with forgetting horrific memories. I expect you to keep your word." Lips meet his, a tongue pushes into his mouth. "I can try and do the same for you, if you let me." She pulls the Prince on top of her. He presses into her once more with a deep exhale. He's moving against her just like the quick, roughs tides of the sea that hit the shores. "I swear to Andraste, if you so much as think of stopping again..."

Grinning against her skin, he suppresses a laugh. Arms flex as he decides to sheathe himself further, a little stronger. Growls are heard. Is he doing that himself he wonders. As he presses forward one last time, he groans out a a breath of air between gritted teeth. Kate arches her back and tightens around him. As his name escapes her in a loud moan, he covers her lips with his own, hopping to drown out some of the noise. Exhausted, Alistair allows himself to collapse against her tiny being.

"You're heavy." The rogue laughs.

"And tired. Don't forget very, very tired. That was quite the workout." Just as he begins to lift himself on his elbows, the chamber door flies open.

"Kate are you alright!? I heard screaming. Sounded like..." Fergus is in the room with his weapon drawn and the door still incredibly wide open. "Sweet Andraste's ass! What's going on here?!"

Alistair is embarrassed. Correction, Alistair is terrified. The Eldest Cousland's eyes go from an expression of worry, to furry. Not only did the man think his only living family member was being tortured or murdered, now he sees that is not the case. His sister is being defiled, out of wedlock, by someone who he trusted. By someone who might believe because they are Prince and soon to maybe be made King, might be above morals.

"You." He's at a lost for words as he points his sword to the man still on top of his sibling. Also, he knows how this one feels for the dark-haired mage. He's not dumb or blind. It's easy for anyone with a set of eyes and half a brain to know of this Prince's feelings for that mage. So there's no possible way he cares enough for his sister to... "I'm going to kill you. Your Kinglyness."

"Fergus, you're drunk. Get out of here." The couple quickly stands. As Alistair hastily puts on his trousers, he allows Kate to stand between him and her enraged brother.

"I heard you screaming sister. As I was heading to crawl into bed with Thalia." His darkened eyes never leave Alistair's form.

"See, you're with someone and you're not married." Kate pushes on the older man's chest as he tries to brush past her.

"This is different." He looks down at her. She's covered in nothing but the sheets from the royal-asses bed. He growls in warning and looks up towards Alistair once more. "I was married. Now I'm not."

"Thalia's never been married." Kate says calmly. "So shouldn't Cullen, her closest thing to a brother, be kicking your ass?"

Shaking his head lightly, Fergus regains his composure. "I...you're...Maker's breath. You're right."

"I think you owe us an apology!" She pushes on his armored chest once more. "You saw me naked! With a man! Who's probably going to be a King tomorrow!"

Blinking a few times, Fergus swallows hard. "I...I'm sorry your Highness...and you Katherine, please forgive me."

"Please brother, just go..." She waves him off towards the door.


End file.
